Final Judgment: The 44th Hunger Games
by Hoprocker
Summary: 24 children are reaped for the 44th Hunger Games to atone for the sins of the past. After a violent first day in the arena, the tributes soon find that this tropical archipelago has a secret: each island represents one of the seven deadly sins. As blood is spilt and dark feelings come to light, each tribute will take up the fight for their life...until it is their turn to fall.
1. The Tributes

**Enjoy the story and make sure to review! **

The Head Gamemaker was working late as usual; so late that she was the last one in the control room for the night. Her sleepy coworkers had departed for home hours ago. But she didn't care. This was why _she _held the most important position in the Hunger Games...not them. With their work ethic, they could never hope to compare.

The Victory Tour had only ended a few days ago, but the young woman tried her best to stay one step ahead of the game. While everyone was still preoccupied with Kalin's glorious win, she had been busy dreaming up the next arena. And the preparations were coming together quite nicely.

The idea for the arena had struck her while she was lying in bed one night, clothed in silk pajamas, staring at the high ceiling of her quarters. It had presented itself to her brain like a gift, and she had gasped at the sheer genius of it. Giggling uncontrollably, eyes glowing with excitement, she had burst from underneath her warm covers and made for her oaken desk. Once there, she began jotting down her ideas, laughing all the while. All sorts of things continued to come to her, and her hand struggled to keep up with her mind. She knew this arena would make for the best Games yet-or at least, she hoped. That's what she said every year, but in the end, it was all a matter of opinion.

Unable to contain her enthusiasm for her job, she worked a number of late nights, making her ideas a reality. With each new idea that presented itself, she couldn't help but chuckle, a mad twinkle in her eyes as she devised new ways to kill innocent children. She had only been the Head Gamemaker for a short while, but the power was already getting to her head. Creating yet another artificial world made her feel like some sort of god.

Of course, the idea of religion was discouraged in Panem; the people were to put their faith in the Capitol alone. Although religious practices were frowned upon and churches had been destroyed to make room for workplaces, religion did not die so easily. There were still many hopefuls that believed in God, while others had lost their faith a long time ago. But the possible existence of heaven and hell seemed to be common knowledge. And why wouldn't it be? With the Hunger Games occurring annually, death was a common sight to behold. One couldn't help but wonder what fate awaited them afterwards.

The victims of the Hunger Games were lucky to find out the answer to that question earlier than others. The Head Gamemaker held their very lives in her hands. They were her toys; playthings that would each get a dramatic, memorable demise that delighted her to no end. If there was a God, he was no longer pulling the strings: _s__he _was.

The young woman was so absorbed in her work that she didn't notice President Snow quietly slip inside the room. He stepped up to stand at her shoulder, looking down at her work. She didn't spare him a glance.

"You missed our meeting today." He said, clearing his throat.

She flinched, her eyes flying wide with shock. "I'm so sorry, sir! Time got away from me."

"It's fine," The president said, sounding oddly calm, even though the Head Gamemaker had completely snubbed him, "I'm curious to see what you've been working on."

"I would love to show you!" The woman said excitedly, her fingers flying as she dragged windows across the hovering screens in front of her, "First of all, I'd like to show you one of my many inspirations…!"

"Not another Robert Frost poem, I hope." The president said, sounding a little bit bored. He just wanted her to get to the point already.

She was immune to his poor attitude, laughing, "No, not at all! Here…"

The Gamemaker brought up a video clip and jammed her finger into a button. The President found himself looking at Kalin, the victor of last year's Hunger Games. The scene before he won was playing out on the screen. They watched it for about a minute. Then the Head Gamemaker paused the video, swiveling around in her chair to grin at President Snow.

"…You're going to have to elaborate." Snow said in an irritated tone of voice.

The Gamemaker smiled evilly. "It's a surprise."

"You know I hate surprises."

"Forgive me, sir," The Head Gamemaker said, eyes sparkling, "But you'll just have to wait like everyone else."

President Snow narrowed his eyes. "Don't forget your place. I would see to it that you were fired for that remark, but I admire your prowess in performing your duties."

The Gamemaker blinked in surprise, suddenly looking very concerned. The president's words had brought her back to reality. She wasn't a god. There was someone in Panem more powerful than herself. She opened her mouth to apologize, but President Snow was already walking away.

"I'll leave you to it, then. Get some sleep." Snow told her.

With that, he exited the room, leaving as quietly as he had come. The Head Gamemaker turned back to what she was doing and continued working feverishly into the night.

Months passed. With each day, the Gamemaker's excitement grew. These would be the best Games yet. The 42nd Games had an amazing arena, but the critics still came down on her for the lack of fighting. There were just too many places for the children to hide, and survival came easy. She gave her audience what they wanted in the 43rd Games, creating a setting that would force tributes together, but then they prattled on how the fire and ice arena didn't compare to the previous one.

This year, there would be no flaws. Everything had to be _perfect_.

Hands shaking with anticipation, she grasped the list of tributes and looked at each name in turn.

**District 1 (Luxury)**

M: Obsidian "Ian" Shaw (18)

F: Jade Argent (17)

**District 2 (Masonry)**

M: Xander Black (18)

F: Sagitta Costella (17)

**District 3 (Technology)**

M: Wiley Corr (17)

F: Spark Fusion Watson (16)

**District 4 (Fishing)**

M: Zale Covent (18)

F: Meredith Calaghan (17)

**District 5 (Power)**

M: Isaac Ross (17)

F: Vera Neuros (17)

**District 6 (Transportation)**

M: Piston Mills (18)

F: Viola Cione (12)

**District 7 (Lumber)**

M: Barrett Emerson (16)

F: Athena Srajord (17)

**District 8 (Textiles)**

M: Flick Fawley (13)

F: Thimblelina "Thimble" Paylor (13)

**District 9 (Grain)**

M: Rowan Claibee (17)

F: Aluma Cavendash (14)

**District 10 (Livestock)**

M: Buck McBride (16)

F: Claire Dillon (17)

**District 11 (Agriculture)**

M: Almond "Al" Frezno Jr. (15)

F: Quinoa Rheape (14)

**District 12 (Mining)**

M: Seyuto Yosuke Laresses (15)

F: Rina Hale (17)

A cruel smile slowly stretched across the Gamemaker's face.

Soon, all but one would be dead. And then they would have the fun of discovering whether there really _was _a heaven or hell.

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games series. However, the plot of this story, the arena, one of the tributes, etc. are my own.**


	2. District Reapings 1 and 2

******I'm sure you noticed there are two districts in a chapter instead of three. They just keep getting longer and longer with each story. You should know that I'm gonna try and space out the updates so we reach the Games when summer hits. So no updates every other day like there was for the 43****rd****. Sorry if you're used to being spoiled, but I'm gonna draw it out! Plus I got a few video games that will keep me from writing so that's another excuse. :P**  


**BTW my review goal is to beat the 43rd! I think we can totally do it. :)**

**District 1**

For District 1, the annual Reaping was a cause for celebration.

Even better was the night before. Filled to the brim with anticipation, citizens would take to the streets in a fit of revelry. Drinks were shared and party lights glittered along the walkways. All types of music could be heard pounding the air. In the richest part of town, the wealthy folk held classy garden parties. Only the most elite families of the district would attend—and those guests that they snuck in, of course.

Obsidian swaggered up to the Bordeaux manor, every step exuding confidence. Sapphire, Ruby, and Diamond—his three "jewels"—were hanging off his arms. Currently, Sapphire and Ruby were fighting it out for possession of his left arm. He barely acknowledged them. Behind him, walking perfectly in step, were the brothers Sterling and Whiskey.

As he approached the ornate door, he motioned for one of his ladies to knock. Before they could even raise their hand, the door was already opening. There was Chardonnay in a fresh yellow-green cocktail dress that flared out at the bottom. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Ian. Then her face sunk back down into its usual scowl when she spotted his harem.

"Honestly," She sighed, "Must you bring your fan club with you everywhere you go?"

"Don't get jealous." Ian purred in a low seductive voice, slipping away from his harem and wrapping his arms around Chardonnay's waist. He gave her a soft kiss on the lips. Behind him, he heard a few wistful sighs from his jewels. One of his sidekicks was bold enough to let out a groan.

Turning from Chardonnay, he faced his gang. Before speaking, he reached up and dramatically flipped his long black bangs out of his eyes. Then he flashed a perfect smile and said in a slow voice, "Now, since I'm the one getting you all into this party, I'll expect you to do me a little favor in return…"

"Anything for you, Ian!" Ruby burst out. The other two girls shushed her and looked at their man with pure adoration.

Ian just smirked, holding up a hand for silence. "As I was saying," He continued, "I would be ever so grateful if you could do some snooping and find out which girl is planning to volunteer this year…and to make it even more fun, whoever brings me the first name will get a special reward." He winked and reveled in the giggles produced by his jewels. Sterling and Whiskey exchanged a mischievous glance—obviously, they were planning to enjoy the party. But it didn't matter. Sapphire, Ruby, and Diamond would carry out his wish.

Linking arms with Chardonnay, they entered the mansion. She led him through the house and out the backdoor. In the backyard, a long buffet table had been set up, as well as a bar where waiters mixed drinks. Golden lights had been strung from trees and shone in the moonlight. They had even installed a glittering fountain with candles floating on its surface. Many esteemed guests were milling about, chatting. Surprisingly, there were as many teenagers there as adults. As Chardonnay led him towards the bar, Ian spotted Allure and Desire Blackwell crossing the lawn. He averted his gaze, acknowledging silently that Ravish had been the prettiest of the three sisters.

He caught a glimpse of his mother as well. Precious Lancaster, the most beautiful socialite of District 1. Currently, she was flirting it up with a young man by the buffet table. Just by the way he dressed, you could tell he was rich. Ian smirked. _Well done, Mother. He seems like quite the catch._

Ian and Chardonnay took seats by the bar and each ordered a mixed drink. Underage drinking wasn't a big deal in District 1. Most everyone handled it with utmost class; not like those other repulsive districts.

"So…" Chardonnay said as they waited for their drinks, "You're planning to volunteer this year, are you?"

Ian's light blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "Perhaps I'm just curious as to which girl is volunteering for this year…"

"Don't lie to me." Chardonnay sighed, accepting her cocktail with a frown, "This is your last year, after all…"

Ian gave a low laugh. "And what if I do volunteer?" He turned and looked deep into Chardonnay's eyes, lips curling into a delicious smile, "Would you miss me?" He brought his drink up to his lips and took a small sip, never taking his eyes off Chardonnay.

She let out a soft moan. "Ugh. Why are you so sexy?"

Ian reached up and flipped out his bangs once more. "Trust me, when I woke up this morning I had no intention of being this sexy. But it happened." He shrugged, looking befuddled.

Chardonnay couldn't suppress a smile. She leaned in to kiss him, but he put a finger to her lips. "Not in front of the adults." He laughed softly, "Honestly, pet, show some restraint." With drinks in hand, they retreated to a shadowy part of the garden, away from prying eyes.

For a few minutes, they enjoyed one another's company. As Ian kissed Chardonnay, he felt a surge of pride for having secured such an esteemed young lady. Channa, unfortunately, was taken by a young man named Rhutter. It seemed unlikely that they would break up anytime soon—Ian had kept tabs on their relationship for months. But the sister of a victor was the next best thing when you were aiming for a high rung on the social ladder.

"Ian!" A shrill voice caused the couple to break apart, "Oh, I've been looking everywhere for you!" Diamond came hurrying over in a flurry of excitement. Chardonnay shot her a glare, but it went unnoticed. She only had eyes for Ian.

"Darling," He said, tilting his head to the side and smiling invitingly at her, "Did you find something?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Am I the first one?"

He nodded.

Diamond gave a small squeal. "Oh my gosh, yay! Okay, so I, like, did some snooping around for you and after talking to person after person after _person_—"

"Out with it, honey." Ian said in a tired voice, pretending to look disinterested.

"Jade Argent."

Ian's eyes widened ever so slightly. _Jade? _His mouth pressed into a thin line. He could see Chardonnay looking at him, scrutinizing his reaction.

"But Jade's only 17…" Chardonnay said, turning to glare at Diamond, "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Diamond said breathlessly, "She must be playing it safe. If she misses the opportunity, then there's always next year."

"I suppose I should have known. Well done, Diamond." He dismissed her with a flick of his wrist.

She grinned, and turned to go. But then something held her back. "Oh! My reward…?" She giggled. She leaned forward slightly, expecting a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Instead, Ian thrust his empty glass at her. "You may have the honor of refilling my drink." He said in a silky smooth voice.

"Oh, of course!" Diamond said, hurriedly taking it and rushing off towards the bar.

Ian gave a low chuckle and Chardonnay huffed, "So eager to please…anyways, do you think Jade is here tonight?"

"How would I know?" Ian said, giving his girlfriend a withering glance, "Aren't you in charge of inviting the guests?"

"No, my parents are." Chardonnay rolled her eyes, "And Channa, of course. I only invited _you_. And then you went and invited your entire posse…"

"Enough talk." Ian said, lifting her chin to face him. He forced his lips onto hers, easily making her give in to the kiss. But while Chardonnay was completely enveloped in the moment, Ian couldn't stop thinking about the female tribute that would be volunteering for the Games tomorrow…

* * *

Jade couldn't have possibly been more bored if she tried. _I wish I were anywhere but here… _She thought, haughtily crossing her arms, _I could be training for the Games right now, or practicing violin. Even studying would be more productive than this._

But her parents had _insisted _that she come. They wanted to introduce her to everyone they met, letting them know that their daughter would be volunteering for the Games this year. She just smiled sweetly at each of the adults and answered their questions as politely as possible. She held her head high as she was showered with praise.

"They love you, darling!" Her mother, Jewel, whispered as they moved onto their next target. Mr. and Mrs. Bordeaux themselves. The Bordeauxs were old family friends, but Jade had a good reason for wanting nothing to do with them at the moment…

"Mom, I'm hungry. Can I go to the buffet table?"

"Don't be silly, honey." Her mother responded, without looking at her, "You need to maintain your figure."

"You'll be on national television tomorrow." Her father, Quartz, reminded her. He caught Mr. Bordeaux's eyes and gave a friendly wave. As the esteemed couple approached, Jade straightened up and smiled at them, uttering a pleasant hello.

"Jade, honey, where have you been?!" Mrs. Bordeaux squealed, sweeping the 17-year old into a great hug, "I haven't seen you for a whole month, and Chardonnay never talks about you anymore! Is everything okay?!"

"Yes, fine." Jade lied, struggling for breath. Mrs. Bordeaux released her and backed off, but she still looked disbelieving. Jade recovered herself and said in a smooth voice, "I've just been busy training for the Games."

"Oh, of course you have! Silly me." The woman blathered on, "Well, we wish you the best of luck, darling."

Jade glowed at the well wishes. "I won't need it, but thank you anyways."

Mrs. Bordeaux tittered, "Oh, you are too much!"

Turning away from Jade, she began jabbering on about her beloved Channa to Jewel and Quartz. At this moment, Jade spotted three familiar faces watching her from afar: Sapphire, Ruby, and Diamond. She could spot Ian's fangirls from a mile away, not to mention smell them. They smelled like an awful mixture of perfume…it was sickening. Jade's veins filled with ice. If _they _were here, that meant Ian was here. And he was most likely with Chardonnay. She silently hoped that she wouldn't have to lay eyes on the two of them.

Just her luck that they would appear a few minutes later, arms twined with one another. A mix of hatred and grief twisted her stomach and made her feel sick. _Traitor, _She thought in disgust, glaring at Chardonnay, _And to think I used to call you my friend._

* * *

"So how was the party?" Jasper asked the next morning, as Jade struggled to prepare for the Reaping.

"It was awful. Be glad you didn't have to go," Jade replied, sorting through her dresses. There were just too many to choose from. "Ahh, I can't decide what to wear!" She whined dramatically.

"I _wish _I could've gone," Her 14-year old brother went on, "But I'm an embarrassment to the family."

"Don't say that!" Jade snapped.

Jasper shrugged. "Just quoting Mom and Dad on that one."

"Help me pick out a dress." Jade said, changing the subject. She struggled to hold up a number of them, waiting for Jasper to select one. He rolled his eyes and pointed to a red one. "Why that one?" She asked testily.

"I don't know. Do you need a reason?"

"Yes!" She hissed. She scrutinized her many options for a moment more, ignoring her brother's complaints. She decided on an emerald green one that fell just above her knees. It would not hinder her in today's flight to the Reaping stage. She kicked her brother out of her room to get dressed.

_I don't know why I didn't pick this dress to begin with. _She sighed, observing herself in her mirror. It complimented her light green eyes to a T and showed off her long legs. She spent the next fifteen minutes putting make-up on (not that she needed it—her complexion was flawless) and combing her wavy, strawberry-blonde hair that fell all the way to her waist.

When she walked downstairs, her parents practically smothered her with compliments. "Thanks for taking my suggestion!" Jasper joked sarcastically, to which Mrs. Argent promptly responded, "Don't speak that way to your sister."

Jade shot her brother an apologetic glance, but he had turned away, retreating into his shell. _Oh well. _As much as she hated to admit it, today wasn't about Jasper. It was all about _her_.

Stepping outside only confirmed this. On the way to the Reaping, they passed by many well-wishers. Everyone seemed to have a tip or a compliment for her. Jade's thoughts had strayed far from her brother by the time they arrived to sign in. At the sight of the stage, she was seized by excitement.

"Now don't get your hopes up in case it doesn't work out…" Her father warned, "There are lots of other young ladies that are aiming to volunteer this year."

Jade lifted her chin defiantly. "I'm not worried."

"Good luck sweetie!" Jewel said, pecking her daughter on the cheek. Jade said a quick goodbye and rushed off, while her parents held one another and sighed tearfully. "Our baby girl is all grown up!"

Brimming with confidence, Jade signed in and secured a spot at the edge of the 17-year old section. Other girls came by and tried to squeeze in and steal her perfect space, but she would wordlessly slip around them and place herself on the edge once more. At one point, she had to shove someone out of the way for it. The girl glared at her, but moved aside willingly.

"Sorry. I'm claustrophobic." Jade said as innocently as possible. The other girl didn't seem to buy it, but it didn't matter. The mayor was already up on stage, introducing the escort. They began the usual propaganda tape, but Jade was already tuned out. She briefly wondered where Chardonnay was—it felt strange to be standing without her this year. Then she scolded herself for thinking about the traitor, and returned her attention to the stage.

Their escort was wearing clashing colors as usual, with an awful assortment of feathers and sequins glimmering on her body. As the video drew to a close, everyone waited with bated breath. The escort smiled and took a step towards the Reaping bowl.

"Ladies—"

"I VOLUNTEER!" A chorus of screams penetrated the air before the escort could even draw a name.

Girls were bursting from their positions all around Jade. Having been caught off guard, she leaped from her spot and sprinted towards the stage. All around her, catfights were breaking out. Older girls were on the ground, tearing into one another with their shoes as weapons. One 16-year old had been ahead of the pack when a blonde girl grabbed her hair and yanked her back.

Jade summoned all of her power into her long legs, taking large strides towards the stage. But then she felt something brush her long hair, as another competitor was preparing to grab it and force her to the ground. Panic flared in her for a brief moment…then she took action. She whipped around, bringing her leg up so high that she smashed her foot into her attacker's head. The point of her heel ripped across the girl's face. An ear-splitting squeal reached her ears, but she had already restarted her flight to the stage.

She practically cleared the stairs in one leap, and then just stood there, panting. All she could do was wonder how she had managed to do what she just did while wearing exceptionally high heels.

A tumultuous applause brought her back to reality. An injured heap of girls glared up at her from the base of the stage, but she barely noticed them. Her eyes were concentrated on her parents standing in the back. Her mother was crying, she was so happy. Suddenly, all of those withheld meals and hours of practice seemed worth it, if just for this one moment.

"I did it!" Jade whispered, feeling pure ecstasy.

"Yes! Congratulations, dear!" The escort said, handing over the microphone, "Would you mind introducing yourself?"

Jade took the microphone, her hands shaking ever so slightly. She took a deep breath. _This is it. Time to make the Capitol love you. Time to shine your light all over Panem! _

"Greetings District 1!" She declared, throwing a hand towards them.

Her massive audience erupted into an excited round of cheering. She reveled in the moment, waiting for them to calm down before continuing.

"Many of you already know who I am. As for those who don't…I am the president of my student council. I hold the position of first chair violin in the school orchestra. I get better grades than anyone _and _I hold the record on the debate team. I am Jade Argent and I am the best of the best! And when I return to you, you will know me as…!"

Suddenly, her eyes fell on Chardonnay and she choked on her words. An awkward pause followed her statement and she could see her former friend's lips curl into a sneer. Jade swallowed and finished in a shaking voice, "V-Victor of the 44th Hunger Games…"

Then, everyone was cheering once more. But she felt like crying as she handed the microphone back to the escort. She spotted her parents and all of their pride had vanished. Jade lowered her eyes, wishing she could just slink back to her spot and try again next year.

"Thank you so much for that little speech, Jade." The escort said, smiling helpfully at her, "Now it's time to pick the male tribute!"

The air regained its former tension as the woman drew a slip of paper from the bowl. Jade waited for someone to volunteer in the same manner as earlier, but no one did. The escort raised the tiny piece of paper to her eyes and cleared her throat.

"Obsidian Shaw."

Jade could feel her stomach drop. She watched, mortified, as Obsidian separated himself from the crowd with an amused little grin. He reached up and tousled his hair in a manner that had become terribly familiar to her over a short while. She could feel all of the blood rushing to her face as he approached the stage without anyone challenging him for it.

_This day can't possibly get any worse._

* * *

"No need for volunteers," Ian said in a calm voice as he swaggered up to the stage, "I got this."

He could hear his fan club rooting for him, clapping so fiercely that everyone else in the vicinity started to catch on. By the time he had scaled the steps to the stage, the entire district was cheering for him.

Ignoring Jade, Ian sidled over to the escort and slipped the mic out of her hand. "Thank you so much for this wonderful opportunity," He said in a silky smooth voice, flashing his perfect smile at the audience, "Really. You won't be disappointed." He tossed his hair once more and listened approvingly to the crowd's enthusiastic response.

The escort declared that the two tributes shake hands. Ian turned to face Jade, drinking in the sight of her. She really was beautiful. Her blonde hair was still mussed from her struggle to get to the stage. Her supple lips were currently pursed and her face was as red as a cherry as she glowered at him. This only served to entertain him even further.

Jade would fit perfectly into his collection of gems, if she weren't so feisty. He held out his hand, but she hesitated to take it. For a moment, he thought she would refuse him, but then she roughly gripped his hand in her own.

Ian grinned. "May the odds be ever in your favor," He murmured in a low, seductive voice.

Jade narrowed her eyes and ripped her hand away from his. As they left the stage, District 1 gave them another round of applause. Over the noise, Ian could hear Jade hiss, "Don't worry…they will be."

**District 2**

_Once upon a time, there were five brothers who only wished to bring honor to their family. In order to do so, the five of them trained fiercely for the Hunger Games._

_Four of the brothers—Art, Sextus, Prokop, and Clovis—were sadistic, vain, and manipulative. They envied the fifth brother, Ethan, who seemed to be perfect at everything he did. Ethan was handpicked for the Hunger Games at age 18. The other brothers, however, never were. All of their training was for naught._

_But for all of his talents, Ethan didn't even make it to the second half of the Games. His own ally turned on him and killed him in his sleep. The family thought their chance at glory had vanished…_

_The four brothers grew up and found wives. They had children of their own. And between them, they passed around Ethan's legacy. Before embarking for the Games, the young man had impregnated his longtime girlfriend, who was unable to care for the child. The four brothers took in the boy, named him Xander, and raised him alongside their own sons._

_Now, history will repeat itself._

"Do I _have _to watch this crap? You make me watch it every time the Reaping comes around…" Xander moaned, rolling his eyes.

"It's good you see your father's Games so you don't make the same mistake!" Uncle Art said testily, adjusting the volume on their TV.

"I practically have it memorized. It's starting to become almost comical…" Xander said, frowning at the TV screen. It contained an image of his father, who actually looked a great deal like himself: wide brown eyes, spiky black hair, and a lean build. His father even had the same mischievous smile planted on his face. But the man was still a stranger. Xander had been upset the first time he saw his father die on the TV, but it was getting old by now.

Art sighed, frustrated with his nephew. "You're incorrigible! Just like your father was."

Xander clenched his jaw, despising the comparison. "I guess it must run in the family," He said bitterly, getting up to leave.

"Where do you think _you're _going?"

"Somewhere else." Xander said simply, walking right out the door.

The sun had set hours ago and tomorrow was Reaping day. His family would be expecting him to volunteer…he had half a mind to completely blow it off. But this was what his life had revolved around from the day he was born. His four cousins had been declared unfit for the Games, and so it fell to him to volunteer.

He briefly wondered where he should crash for the night. All of his uncles would welcome him. However, his cousins—Lucifer, Abe, Patricio, and Curtis—despised him. Having someone glaring at you every waking moment got old fast. So he headed over to his friend Theo's place instead.

When he knocked on the door, Theo came to open it. He looked at Xander curiously for a moment, and then said in a firm voice, "Sorry, we don't want any."

He went to close the door, but Xander jumped in the way and forced it open, grinning. "Aw c'mon, my uncle's being a jerk. Can I crash here?"

"Course you can." Theo said, returning the grin, "Though I think my parents are starting to get sick of your mug. Why don't you crash at Severn's place for once?"

"Yeah right. Sev's parents would freak." Xander snorted, coming into the house. They headed upstairs to Theo's room where Xander sprawled onto his best friend's bed, letting out a heavy sigh. "She's so excited to see the arena for this year, she'd probably never shut up. And I need my sleep."

"Uh-huh." Theo muttered, "Well, you're sleeping on the floor tonight. Don't get too comfortable."

"Y'know my stupid cousin still thinks I'm after his girl? I've been with Sev a whole year too! Jeez, what a self-centered idiot…"

"Mmhmm…"

Xander shot a glance at Theo, who had his nose stuck in a book. He squinted at his friend, waiting for him to rejoin the conversation. After a minute of silence, Theo seemed to realize Xander had stopped talking.

"Did you say something?" He asked, looking embarrassed.

"I was just wondering how you managed to escape District 3 without being reported." Xander joked.

Theo didn't look amused. "District 3 isn't the only district that reads!"

"Well, they do enough of it to cover for everyone else. Seriously, pay attention to their Reaping next time you watch. I guarantee you'll see at least one kid with their nose stuck in a book."

Theo ignored him, having returned to his book in the middle of Xander's short spiel on District 3. The 18-year old let out a small huff and stretched back out on the bed, closing his eyes. As he lay there, he began to drift off. It had been another tough day of training.

It had been bittersweet, in a way. This was the last day he had trained with his uncles. They were expecting him to volunteer tomorrow. But the smallest of doubts tugged at the back of his mind. He kept seeing the body of his father being lifted into the hovercraft. And even though he didn't know him nor care about him, he couldn't help but feel as if he would share the same fate.

As he fell into a deeper sleep, he wondered if he would have the courage to do what he was born to do at tomorrow's Reaping.

* * *

"_Running away is a mark of cowardice. District 2 doesn't train cowards."_

"_I'm not a coward," Sagitta said through gritted teeth, her fist tightening around the knife she was holding. She was holding a private training session with one of her mentors. A middle-aged man that she had deemed as a shallow idiot a long time ago. She had no respect whatsoever for him._

"_If you're not a coward, then stop retreating to the other side of the gym whenever I attack." Her trainer said in a firm voice._

"_It's called going on the defensive." Sagitta grumbled, "And it's just as important as offense, for your information."_

"_Don't talk back to me!" The trainer snapped, "Going on the defensive would be using your knife to block my blows, which you've failed to do. Look…" He let out a long sigh, suddenly looking very weary, "You've got a lot going for you. You're determined, willing to do what it takes to win the Games, and I've never seen anyone shoot an arrow with such precision. But you've got to stop running away all the time—and I'm not just talking about training."_

_Sagitta's expression hardened. She glared at her trainer, refusing to speak a word. She knew what he was talking about. Everyone who knew about her demented family knew that she had run away from home countless times. For ten years she had been doing this, sometimes disappearing for days at a time. But she always returned home in the end._

"_Okay, I think we're done for today." Her trainer told her, taking the knife, "Just remember what I said. No more running away."_

_Even though he was a man, and Sagitta hated him with every fiber of her being, she took his advice to heart._

One year later, Sagitta hadn't run away since then.

Upon hearing her mother returning from another late night at the bar, she would have loved to escape to the dingy library or even an abandoned warehouse. But she forced herself to stay where she was, listening to the revolting moaning that came from her mother's room as her latest boyfriend took advantage of her drunken state.

_I wonder how long this one will last, _Sagitta thought, sniffing petulantly. Sahara Mire was truly a piteous woman whom Sagitta despised being related to. Not even her twin sisters, Serendipity and September Costella—who were practically perfect in every way—would have anything to do with her. They spent all of their time tending to their half-brother Cosmic, when Sahara should have been the one doing so. But she was too busy leading her own sorry existence to care.

Unable to stand listening to Sahara's moans any longer, Sagitta left her room and went downstairs to grab a midnight snack. The Reaping was tomorrow; she wished her mother the worst of hangovers in the morning. Maybe Sahara would wind up so sick that she would be unable to attend the ceremony. Maybe she would miss seeing Sagitta volunteer. _Wouldn't that be nice? _But it was all just wishful thinking. _Everyone _had to attend the Reaping.

Sagitta was suddenly aware of the sound of footsteps. Someone was coming down the hallway. Cosmic appeared, looking slightly surprised at the sight of his estranged sister. Her eyed her warily, as if she were an unwelcome stranger in his home. She glared right back. She wanted nothing to do with her 6-year old brother. He would just grow into one of those disgusting people that her mother brought home from work every night. All men were the same.

Cosmic left as quickly as he had come, abandoning his quest to get a drink of water. His scowling sister was far too intimidating for him to approach. _Good. _

An hour ticked by while Sagitta dozed in her chair. She couldn't wait for tomorrow. She kept imagining perfect scenarios in her head—winning the Hunger Games, rubbing it in her mother's face, going to live with her dad once and for all…

At some point, she decided that it was time for bed. When she returned to her room, she was pleased to hear that the bedroom next door had fallen silent. She curled up in her bed and welcomed a good night's sleep.

* * *

Sagitta only slept for a few hours that night, waking early so that she could get out of the house before anyone else got up. Moving as quietly as possible, she took a shower and got dressed in a simple dark skirt and blouse. She ate a quick breakfast and left the house, just as the sun was rising.

She still had a few hours until the Reaping so she took her time getting over there. The area where the stage was set up had a smooth stone floor with very little grass. But not far off, there was a small park with flowers and trees. A rare sight in District 2. Sagitta selected a bench and sat down to watch the world go by, sitting there in a dignified sort of manner.

"Sagittaaa!"

Sagitta gave a small start and looked to see a freaky-looking girl approaching her. The girl looked a bit like an escort, with half of her body dyed red and the other half blue. Her short, fiery hair had streaks of white and blue in it and her dress was an ostentatious shade of yellow with swirls of black.

"Hey Charisma," Sagitta said in a bored voice, "Why are you here so early?"

"I was just so excited, I made Daddy get up and bring me here as soon as possible!" She squealed excitedly, plopping down next to her friend, "I can't wait—just one more week until we see the arena! Then I'll finally be able to update my look." She fluffed up her hair and smiled.

Charisma was actually from the Capitol, but she was an avid fan of District 2. She moved in when her father secured a government position here. At first, Sagitta had loathed her like everyone else. Spoiled Capitolites were hardly ever welcome in the districts. But then she saw the way Charisma walked with her head high, unbothered by the glares and jeers constantly being thrown at her. There was something respectable about that, and Sagitta dropped her grudge.

"Oh hey, check this out!" Charisma said suddenly, lifting the sleeve of her dress. On her arm was a tattoo of a skull, a star, and an arrow. "One for each consecutive victor from District 2!"

Sagitta allowed herself a small smile. "Angeliqa, Novae, and me." She said quietly, pointing to each picture.

Charisma nodded and dropped her sleeve. "Right. Which one of you is volunteering this year? I always forget."

"This year is mine. Next year is Angeliqa, and then Novae is after that since she's only 16."

"Got it."

The two of them spent the next few hours just chatting the morning away. At least, Charisma did most of the talking while Sagitta pretended to listen. Her mind was focused on the Reaping. As soon as she saw the line start to form, she leaped from the bench, said a quick goodbye to Charisma, and hurried off to sign in. Then she met up with her other two friends, Angeliqa and Novae.

Together, the three of them warranted some nervous looks from other potential tributes. They were well known in the district. Angeliqa, for her sadistic nature and love of poison. Novae, for her competitive nature and bad temper. And nobody rivaled Sagitta when it came to using a bow and arrow. They had divided up the years they would volunteer among them, so as not to cause controversy.

It came as a surprise when Novae suddenly declared, "I want to volunteer this year. I want to go first!"

Sagitta whipped around and looked at her closest friend in disbelief.

"_No_." Angeliqa snapped instantly, glaring at Novae, "That would completely throw off the balance. This is Sagitta's year. You're younger, so you have to wait two years. We all agreed on this." Novae opened her mouth to argue, but Angeliqa grabbed the collar of her shirt and yanked it roughly towards her, "Don't do something you'll regret."

"Chill, guys," Sagitta hissed. Everyone knew Angeliqa was mentally unsound. It wouldn't do good to break the promise they had made…their relationship was shaky enough as it was. "Novae, if you want the spot, you'll have to fight me for it. Just remember that."

Novae fell quiet. Sagitta kept an eye on her as they gathered in their respective sections. Then here came the usual drill…a speech from the mayor, a video to remind them of the Dark Days, and then the escort's introduction. Excited murmurs started to arise from the teenagers as the overexcited woman skittered over to the females' Reaping ball.

Suddenly, there was movement from the 16-year old section. Without a word, Novae burst from her spot and started sprinting for the stage. Her action sent a handful of other girls running for it, Sagitta included.

"Novae!" She screamed angrily, but her hot-tempered friend didn't look back.

With a burst of adrenaline, Angeliqa overtook everyone and tackled Novae to the ground. The younger girl shrieked, struggling to get away from her demented friend. "You don't break promises!" Angeliqa screamed in her face, fixing her hands around Novae's throat and beginning to choke her. She whipped her head around wildly, looking for her other friend. "Go, Sagitta! This is _your _year!"

Sagitta considered stopping to pry them apart. But then some other girl would take to the stage, and she would lose her opportunity. She ascended the stairs in a dignified manner, holding her head high. She didn't spare Novae and Angeliqa a second glance. At the top, the escort welcomed her with a hug, causing her to stiffen up. "And who might you be?" She asked sweetly, offering Sagitta the microphone.

Sagitta looked out over the audience. They already knew who she was. The daughter of that unpleasant barmaid—and the friend of a psycho. She glanced down to where her two best friends were being pulled apart by Peacekeepers. Novae looked awful, blue in the face and gasping for breath. Angeliqa was positively lethal, struggling to break free from the Peacekeepers and get back to killing her pal.

"Sagitta Costella." Sagitta said in a flat voice, then added in her mind, _Only I am worthy of entering the Hunger Games. And the Games are more important than any artificial friendship._

* * *

_There's my competitor for this year, _Xander thought, looking at the girl that now stood on stage. Her skin was a unique color that reminded him of coffee. She had long brown hair and angry-looking blue eyes that sparked dangerously. She was tall and thin, currently sticking her nose in the air as if she thought she was better than everyone else there. _You can practically see right up it._

"Looks like a real down-to-earth gal." Xander said sarcastically, nudging Theo.

"You're up next." Theo murmured.

"Oh man…you're right." Xander suddenly felt anxious. This was the moment his life had been based around. If he missed this opportunity…what then?

Someone in front of him turned around. It was none other than Lucifer, his 17-year old cousin. The dark-haired boy's face was twisted in a sneer. "Thinking of chickening out?"

Xander arched an eyebrow, trying to clear his face of any trace of nerves. "Why would you think that?"

"We all placed bets," Lucifer went on, ignoring the question, "Abe and I say you won't go through with it. Curtis seems to have some faith in you, though. I feel bad about extorting money from the kid, but hey, we all gotta make a living."

"Well I hope Curtis put down a lot of money on me because he's about to get rich." Xander said, giving Lucifer a pat on the back.

At that moment, the escort chose the name of the male tribute. "Xander Black!" She announced dramatically.

"That's my cue!" Xander called over his shoulder, making a beeline for the stage. He could hear a protest rising from his cousins and a single cheer—Curtis, of course. He breathlessly clambered onto the stage, beaming as the crowd welcomed him with a round of applause. He snatched the microphone from the escort and introduced himself.

"I'm Xander Black!" He announced, "But I guess you already know that since I was reaped…hmm…hey! I've got a few jokes for ya!"

He could see the audience exchanging confused glances, wondering when this had become comedy hour.

"What did the District 1 Career get on his IQ test?" Xander asked, grinning.

There was a flurry of muttering. A few teens called out low numbers or demanded to know what it was.

"Drool!" Xander declared, and the audience chuckled. They began to egg him on, eager to hear another one. "How do you get two District 1 Careers to work together? …Shoot one of them!"

The response was even louder this time. Everyone was laughing.

"What's the difference between a District 1 Career and the rear end of a horse?"

"What?" Everyone shouted back collectively.

"…I don't know either!" Xander chuckled, and everyone entered another round of guffaws. He turned to look at his district partner, expecting to see the same reaction. Instead, she was glaring at him fiercely. He could practically _see _the hatred radiating off of her body. _Maybe she's just jealous I took the spotlight off her… _He thought.

"Okay, dearies, shake hands…" The escort giggled, wiping away a tear.

"_No_." Sagitta growled. She turned on her heel and swiftly strolled off the stage. The audience quieted down, looking curiously at the girl. Peacekeepers hurried after her to guide her to the Justice Building. Xander just stood there with his hand slightly raised, wondering what on earth just happened.

**Did you like the little fairy tale at the beginning of District 2? :P I know it was cheesy, but I wanted to be different…**

**I should probably end my disjointed thoughts at this point, but I can't. This is random, but my Christmas Eve dream was a mix between Hunger Games and Running Man (this funny Korean variety show) and the arena was a weird mutation of my house and the beach. And the Spider-Man was walking around. o.o I offed two Korean celebrities in my computer room by ripping their name tags off (that's how you kill people in Running Man, and I didn't actually wanna kill those guys cause I love 'em). But as soon as I stepped out of the room, Ian surprised me and killed me with his weapon of choice. :c He drew it out too and laughed at me. Oh well, I'll forgive him cause he's sexy. Also he called me "Towhee," after one of my tribute creations. I dunno why, I guess my hair was in pigtails or something.  
**

**OKAY I'M DONE. :) Make sure to review!  
**


	3. District Reapings 3 and 4

**I'd like to apologize ahead of time in case I accidentally ever type Zane instead of Zale.  
**

**District 3**

"Well, I think that will be all for today. Take care at the Reaping tomorrow, everyone. As they say in the Capitol—"

"Oh! Mrs. Diskett!" Spark cried out, her hand shooting straight into the air, "You forgot to collect the homework!"

The class collectively groaned, as was expected whenever Spark had something to say. She didn't spare them a second glance. Sitting at the front of the classroom, she would have to turn around to see most of the other students, and they weren't even worth the effort.

"Oh, I did, didn't I?" Mrs. Diskett said, looking frazzled, "Please pass that in. Thank you for speaking up, Spark."

"Yeah, _thanks_." A sarcastic voice muttered from the back of the room.

Spark ignored them, lifting her chin haughtily. "Will there be any assignments over the weekend?" She questioned Mrs. Diskett, as the middle-aged woman collected her math paper, which she would no doubt get a hundred percent on.

"No, not this weekend." Mrs. Diskett said grimly.

"Well, what about extra credit?" Spark pressed.

"Shut up!" Someone hissed, "It's time to go home!"

Mrs. Diskett shot a disapproving glance towards the student that had spoken. Then she looked back to Spark, her expression softening. "I'm sorry, dear. I'll have something for you next week. The Reaping stresses everyone out enough, so we don't need to add homework to the mix."

A few students gave appreciative hoots. Spark just let out a displeased huff. Getting reaped just didn't seem like a possibility for her. Not because she was naïve or anything of that sort…but because her name was only in there five times. What were the chances of the escort selecting a piece of paper with her name on it? She had calculated the probability herself and decided that there was nothing to fear.

After finally gathering up all of the homework, Mrs. Diskett dismissed her class. Most of the students made a mad dash for the door. Spark, meanwhile, packed up her bag more slowly. "Teacher's pet." Someone growled as they pushed pass. Once again, Spark ignored them.

"Have a good weekend, Mrs. Diskett!" Spark called over her shoulder on her way out.

"You too!" Mrs. Diskett responded cheerfully.

Spark reached into her bag and pulled out one of her favorite books. As she left the school, she located the chapter where she had left off and resumed reading. Opening the book was like entering another world. She became deaf to the grumblings of those around her, as they sidestepped her to avoid a collision. Sometimes she would trip over a bump in the sidewalk, but then immediately regain her footing and reenter the realm of the story.

This novel happened to be about a young Capitol girl that discovered they were breeding all sorts of muttations in a District 5 lab whilst visiting a friend. The mutts were lethal, having been bred to fight and kill. Just when she was about to escape the lab, she was discovered. The girl stole a muttation—an owl mixed with a tiger—and rode it away. The unruly beast was injured during the escape and crash-landed in the wilderness. The story was full of plot holes and unbelievable feats, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

Reading it made time go by faster too. A fifteen-minute walk over to the town's used bookstore only seemed to take a minute.

"Good evening, Miss Watson." A voice croaked, "I trust you're enjoying that book?"

Spark looked up to see a little old man standing out front the bookstore. He was resting heavily on a cane, the corners of his eyes crinkled in welcome. Spark couldn't help but feel a bit warmer at the sight of him.

"I am. See how far I've gotten?" She said triumphantly, holding the book up.

The old man smiled and nodded.

Mr. Johnson was her boss—she worked for him at the bookstore—but she also saw him as one of her best friends. Sometimes they would spend hours together, discussing books as they waited for a single customer to show. Their time together was well spent. And as an added bonus, she was paid for it…not that she needed the money. Her family was well off and her parents had only forced her to get a job in order to build character.

"Well that's wonderful, Miss Watson. Why don't you take today off so that you can finish it?"

"No!" Spark refused, a little too quickly, "I mean, I have nothing else to do. I can stay here and help."

"I don't think I need any help today," Mr. Johnson said kindly, "You know we hardly ever get any customers…"

"Well, then I can clean up or organize the shop…"

The old man shook his head. "There's nothing that needs to be done. It's Reaping weekend…you should be at home with your family."

Spark scowled. _Again with the Reaping?! _"Well, at least let me buy some books to take with me. I'm gonna need something to read while I'm there."

"Of course, of course!" Mr. Johnson said, opening the door to his humble shop. Spark entered, eyes sweeping the shelves for her selection. An interesting title on the top shelf caught her eye and she grabbed a footstool to retrieve it.

"You know…" Mr. Johnson chuckled as he watched her grab an armful of books, "I think our entire business consists of you and I passing money back and forth. I pay you for working here, then you buy the books."

"Huh." Was all Spark could manage. She couldn't see any humor in it. She bought three books with her pocket money, bid Mr. Johnson a good weekend, and went home.

As soon as she walked through the door of her house, her father spotted the books in her arms and questioned, "No work today?"

"Nope."

"You buy any books about programming?"

"No, Dad," Spark said, heading right upstairs to her room, "It's fiction." _And you always ask that!_

She could hear him mutter something about it being a waste of time. Oh well. It was no secret that he and her mother wanted her to become a programmer—just like them. But as she settled back into her comfy bed and reopened her book, she couldn't help but wish for the opportunity to become a writer. Then she would be able to escape into these fictional worlds for a living.

* * *

"Hey, Wiley. How many times you in there?" Rick asked, lounging around on his bed, looking curiously at his older brother.

Wiley was currently hunched at his desk, trying to get some math homework done before the Reaping. But no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn't seem to produce any solutions. The paper was completely blank, save for a nice drool stain on question 4 that had miraculously appeared there after he had fallen asleep. But somehow, he didn't think that would suffice as an answer.

"Oy! Don't ignore me." Rick said loudly, waving an arm. "I wanna know how many times your name's in the Reaping this year."

"Tell you what: let's just go with 'a lot' and leave it at that. No need to dwell on it. Just…leave it at that." Wiley said in a falsely cheerful voice. He took a deep breath and returned to his homework. But all he could do was stare at the paper blankly, thoughts of the Reaping now intruding on his mind.

"Mine's in there twenty-eight times." Rick said, a dumb grin spreading across his face, "More times than anyone else in my class, so ya know. Did you put 7 in for your first year too? Because that would mean you're up to…"

"Yeah, fourteen or something, I'm not _exceptionally_ good at math," Wiley laughed nervously, "A-Anyways, I'd better go get ready, don't wanna be late or anything…"

"Forty-two. Seven tesserae on the first year times six, the number of years you've been eligible for the Games, equals forty-two. Your name will be in there forty-two times this year." Wiley and Rick both looked to see their 12-year old brother Craig standing in the doorway to their bedroom. A book was tucked under his arm. "The odds are definitely not in your favor," He went on to say, "But never mind that, Neil was being a pain. May I read in here? Also, Dad wanted to speak to you, Wiley."

"Oh! Oh, all right, I'll go see him then, shall I?" Wiley sprang up, grateful for the distraction. He left his two brothers and hurried downstairs to seek out his father.

He still felt a twinge of sadness every time he walked through the narrow hallways of their new home. He hadn't always had to share a room with Rick. Five years ago, they had been living in one of the richest parts of the district. But then his father had sold their home for his own purposes. His business was going down hill and they could no longer afford a big house. But Mr. Corr absolutely refused to move to the poorest part of the district—he was a genius and didn't deserve to be among their ranks, or so he said.

Now they were living in a smaller, three bedroom house, with their family of six. Things weren't as luxurious as they used to be, but they managed.

Wiley found his father pacing around the kitchen, sporting a suit and tie for the Reaping. His face lit up at the sight of his oldest son. "Wiley, there you are!" He said in a booming voice, "We need to talk."

Feeling a bit flattered that his father would single him out like this, Wiley beamed and took a seat. "Oh, excellent. Can't go wrong with…talking. Though I'd be interested to know _what _we're going to be talking about. Because just now, when you said we needed to talk, your inflection sort of—"

"This is serious, Wiley," Mr. Corr said flatly, his smile having dropped away in an instant. He looked very grave, the lines on his face incredibly pronounced. "It's about your future."

Wiley suddenly felt nervous, but he tried to keep smiling. "Well, that's…okay! Sure. What about it?"

"Son, I know I've always encouraged you to follow your dreams. I know that I promised you one day we'd be running Corr Laboratories as father and son, and eventually you would take over…but frankly, I just don't think you're cut out for it."

Wiley just blinked at his dad, dumbfounded. Never could he have guessed that _this _would be the subject of their conversation. Never in a million years. "What?! No, y…you're just saying that, aren't you?" He stammered, but the look on his father's face was dead serious. "Okay, you're not just saying that. Well, if I—if I can't run the company with you, I could work for you as an engineer. Or, y'know, maybe a computer hacker? I'm good with computers…"

"Well, actually, I'm running short on test subjects. As a tester, you'd get to participate in all of the experiments and I wouldn't even have to pay you for it!" Mr. Corr let out a hearty laugh, "It's a _great _job, son. Always someone telling you what to do, never having to think for yourself…"

"A tester…" Wiley repeated, not liking the sound of it. He had seen test subjects before, having unspeakable experiments performed on them in the lab. Some people died on the operating table or went completely mad. Wiley particularly remembered his father telling him about a man who couldn't come out of an alternate reality after the scientists placed a chip in his brain. It was a dangerous job…is that what his father really wanted for him?

"Just give it some thought. You still have a year of schooling to go." Mr. Corr said, patting his son on the back, "Now, you'd better get ready for the Reaping."

Feeling dejected, Wiley slunk back upstairs and into the bathroom he shared with his three brothers. Inside he came across his mother, who was struggling to dress his 6-year old brother, Neil. In a sense, Neil wasn't all there. He never acted his age and his mother always had to cater to his every need.

"Do you mind?" She snapped at Wiley. He could see the dark circles under her eyes—Neil was stressing her out.

"Ahh! Sorry, Mum!" He left and waited in his room for them to finish up.

Once they were gone, he entered the bathroom and faced his reflection. His deep blue eyes shone sadly back at him. His square-framed glasses had slipped down his nose and he adjusted them, an action that always made him appear smarter. Confidence welled up from within. _He thinks I can't run the company? Look at me. I'm brilliant. I can be anything I want to be…_

He ran his hands through his caramel brown hair, perfecting the way his bangs swept up in the front. Then he got dressed, pulling a clean white dress shirt over his lean frame. After adjusting his black tie, he was ready to go.

A few minutes later, their family had congregated by the front door. Then they set off for the Reaping, trying not to think about the 77 slips of paper inside the ball that contained the name 'Corr.'

* * *

Wiley led his two younger brothers to the long line of children waiting to sign in. Panic was starting to seep into his mindset as it did every year. Peacekeepers patrolled through their ranks, telling kids to prepare to give blood for identification.

Craig glanced up from the book he was reading. "Prepare to give blood? You didn't say anything about that."

Wiley flinched and gave a nervous laugh, "Prepare, it's all the same, prepare…no need to be alarmed." He aimed a very forced grin at his little brother.

Craig narrowed his eyes. "I'm not." He said in a flat voice and returned to his book.

Rick, meanwhile, was trying to catch the eye of a pretty, dark-haired girl with feathery bangs in the line over from them. She was currently absorbed in a book, completely unaware of her surroundings. When Rick realized that winking repeatedly at the back of her head wasn't going to get him anywhere, he turned to his brothers and said in a loud voice, "What are you talking about? Course I wouldn't be scared if I got reaped for the Hunger Games! You wanna know what I would do in the arena? I'd run straight into that Bloodbath and I'd grab a gun…"

"Guns aren't provided in the Cornucopia." Craig said irritably, rustling the pages of his book, "Don't you ever pay attention?"

Rick shot him a glare and continued on, "Fine, then I'd use a knife. And if there wasn't a knife…I'd use pressure points…" He turned to see that his initial target hadn't looked up from her book. However, he had caught the interest of a few other younger girls. He winked at them. "You ladies want me to demonstrate what a pressure point is…?"

He suddenly reached up and grabbed Wiley's shoulder, hard. He sunk his fingers in and squeezed with all his might. Wiley started flailing about, crying out, "AH! Stop it, you idiot! That hurts! That _really _hurts!" After a few seconds of intense pain, he managed to shake Rick off of him. Then he stood there, clutching his shoulder and glaring at his little brother.

"Sheesh, what are you, made of glass?" Rick snorted, glancing at the gaggle of girls. They had turned away, uninterested. He reached up and scratched at his short, dark brown hair, wondering what he possibly could have done wrong in his quest to attract them. Maybe it was the fact he was wearing a gaudy cowboy hat…no, it couldn't be that. Chicks dig cowboys.

Meanwhile, Wiley returned to sulking, waiting for the pain in his shoulder to ebb. His father had shot down his dreams and his name was in the Reaping ball…well, _a lot_. He kept forgetting how to do the math. Either way, life couldn't be much worse. Could it?

Wait, yes it could. It could _always _be worse.

"If it isn't the Corr family…" Came a bored voice. The three of them had reached the front of the line and come face to face with one of the Peacekeepers charged with checking everyone in. The Corr family was fairly well known, due to having a business in their name and a highly opinionated father. "Well, Wiley, are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way this year?"

Without even realizing it, Wiley had shrunk back at the sight of the needles, placing his 12-year old brother in front of him in a defensive maneuver. But then he quickly realized what a poor example he was. He straightened up, took a deep breath, and was ready to go for it when Rick shoved him aside.

"Why don't you have yourself a little lady break while I sign in?" His brother sneered. The woman took his hand and pricked it with the needle.

"Hold my book." Craig said, handing it to Wiley.

"Oh, are you sure you wanna do that, because I could go first if you're feeling at all nervous…!"

But the official had already drawn Craig's blood before Wiley could finish his sentence. Craig snatched the book back and walked away without a word. Rick laughed, "That's my little bro! Taking it like a man!" Then he charged off, humming some action sequence under his breath.

Wiley watched them go on without him. Suddenly, the Peacekeeper snatched up his hand and drove the needle into it. He let out a loud yelp as she did so, but the needle was in and out before he could move away. The woman smiled at her victory. "Next!" She called out sweetly.

Wiley moved off and joined the section reserved for the 17-year olds. Soon, the escort took to the stage and District 3's 44th Reaping had begun. Even though he feared the Reaping with all his heart, Wiley's mind continued to drift back to that conversation with his father. Why would he shoot him down like that? Didn't he realize how much Wiley had sacrificed for him? For his business?

A wry smile formed on his lips as he acknowledged, _It's funny to think that, if I were reaped right now, none of this would matter at all. I wouldn't have to worry about getting a job or anything of the sort. My future would cease to exist…_

Sighing, Wiley watched the announcer read off the name of the girl.

"Spark Fusion Watson."

_Fusion Watson? Huh. Seems like it'd be fun to say. Better not say it now, though. Dunno if anyone would appreciate it…_

"Spark Fusion Watson?"

_Hey lady, they're calling your name. And newsflash: you're not getting out of this one. So better get on up there._

"Is she here?"

Still, no one stepped forward. Everyone was looking around in confusion. Others that knew her were quick to point a finger, showing the Peacekeepers the way. They revealed a thin, pale girl with wavy dark brown hair that fell to her shoulders. Her nose was currently stuck in a book—she didn't even seem to realize that her name had been called…until a Peacekeeper roughly grabbed her arm and began hauling her towards the stage. Her large green eyes widened with astonishment and she looked around wildly.

"Wait—what?!" The poor thing muttered in disbelief.

However, Wiley couldn't seem to muster any pity. He was too focused on the escort, who was already inching towards the Reaping ball that belonged to the males. Fear darkened the edges of his vision as the woman reached inside and pulled out the name of the chosen tribute. Smiling, she lifted the paper and peered at it closely.

"Wiley Corr." The escort called, her voice ringing out as clear as day.

And just like that, Wiley's future collapsed into nothing.

* * *

Spark barely heard the name of the male tribute. Attempting to hide her shock, she had thrown up her book as a shield. Her eyes hungrily scanned the pages, but the words seemed to blur together. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't retreat into her fictional universe. Her mind kept screaming,_ I was reaped. I was reaped. I was reaped! _

"Oh no! No! No, no, no, no, no…!" A tortured moan filled the air. It was the tribute they had selected to die alongside her.

_No! Don't think about it! Don't even look…! _She shoved the book right in front of her eyes, trying to force herself to read the novel. _The tiger muttation reared up on its hind legs, its mottled brown wings clawing the air as it tried to fly-_

But the cries of the male tribute filled her mind. She could hear the sounds of a scuffle, as if the boy were struggling against the Peacekeepers dragging him to the stage.

The escort let out a nervous laugh. "Now if you would be so kind as to—oh my!"

It sounded as if the boy had tried to make a run for it. Spark squeezed her eyes shut, but she couldn't block out the sharp zap of taser. She could hear his body hit the stage floor with a resounding thud. Still, she didn't lower the book.

Even when they began to lead her towards the Justice Building, she didn't lower the book.

**District 4**

_This was the worst arena she had ever witnessed in all of her years of watching the Hunger Games. She had thought nothing could have been worst than last year's—a thick pine forest that was stuck in perpetual nighttime. Carnivorous creatures stalked tributes through the darkness and the entire program had to be watched in night vision._

_At least that year's arena had been outside. She would have gladly volunteered to enter the dark forest, if she had known the next arena was going to be a maze of gray, claustrophobic corridors. She missed the sea breeze and the sound of waves. The low ceilings made her feel trapped and she was constantly on guard when rounding a corner._

_There was actually a spacious main hall that contained the Cornucopia, along with its enormous food supply, but the Careers had overtaken that. And she was not one of them._

_She lost herself in the winding maze, which was full of compartments to hide in. Strange, robotic muttations patrolled these halls, ready to shoot unwary tributes through with a barrage of bullets. Luckily, she had found a schedule along with a watch in one of her compartments. The schedule betrayed the muttations' patrol routes and she had managed to avoid them thus far._

_Unfortunately, there was another catch. If you hid in a single place too long, the Gamemakers would sound off an alarm in the room you were in. That would usually bring the Careers running._

_On the third day of the Games, with less than ten tributes to go, an alarm went off in the room she was in. Having eaten nothing in that period of time, she was weak and had half a mind to stay where she was. But she remembered her family, particularly her little brother. She had promised that she would return to him._

_She rose to her feet, taking a few shaky steps. The room swayed and for a moment she thought she would collapse. Then she heard the sound of voices echoing off the walls, making the Careers sound alarmingly close. She summoned all of her strength and began to run blindly down a narrow hall. But her limbs were heavy with fatigue and she couldn't move fast enough._

_Ear-piercing shrieks of excitement sounded over the distant alarm and that was when she knew they had found her. But she kept going, knowing that she couldn't hope to defeat them._

_Suddenly, she turned right and came upon a dead end. She skidded to a halt, heart hammering against her chest. Now, there was no choice but to fight. She whipped around, ready to face her enemies, but a sharp pain stabbed through her chest. Wide-eyed, she looked down to see an arrow embedded in it._

_She sunk to the ground, deaf to the cheers of her killers. Tears formed in her eyes as she thought back to District 4, her home._

Please…_ She thought, giving in to the blackness, _Don't let my brother go through the same thing. Let him live a safe life filled with love and trust…please.

_Wishing that her brother didn't have to see this and fervently hoping that her parents wouldn't put him through the same struggle she endured, she breathed her last. Moments later, a lonely cannon sounded and the Careers abandoned her body to the hovercraft._

* * *

Meredith and her friends watched as the ceiling of the arena opened up and a claw descended from above. It fixed its jaws around the still body of the blonde girl and bore her away, taking District 4's chance at victory with it.

"She never should have left the Careers," Kelda sighed.

Meredith snatched up the remote and turned the TV off. "Come on, we'll be late for training." She said hastily, "We'd better go."

Adrianne let out a short yelp. "Oh my gosh, look at the time! Let's hurry!"

They quickly gathered their things and left Meredith's large house. Luckily, the training center wasn't far from where she lived. As they hurried there, they discussed past Games and strategies with one another.

For a while, District 4 had been in a slump. It was supposed to be a Career district, just as powerful as Districts 1 and 2. But lately, it just hadn't been living up to its full potential. Weak tributes had been reaped with no strong ones to volunteer in their stead. They were an embarrassment to the district, making it seem as if they were going to digress to its former state, when _no one _would volunteer.

But there were still a few teenagers that took it upon themselves to train for their own reasons. Meredith was one of these people. District 4 was going to make a comeback—she was sure of it.

Her gaze roved around the training center, taking in the sparse number of tributes. It was always a pleasure to note that there were more than last year. Her mother, Beverley, had started the academy herself and it was one of their sources of income, along with her father's fishery. The more potential tributes, the better.

Right now, she was apart of a small class that was being run by her Aunt Lynn; she had won the Games 25 years ago and Meredith resembled her more than anyone else in her family. It was almost comical. Both had curly dark hair and blue eyes with matching dark circles under them. Even their wide, upturned noses were identical. Meredith, however, was notably taller and more muscular from her training over the years.

Aunt Lynn took this as a good omen. If anyone else in the Calaghan family was meant to win, it was Meredith.

"All right, everyone, gather round!" Lynn called in a penetrating voice, after an hour or so of practice, "It's the last day of training, and then the Reaping is tomorrow. I want to finish up with a partner exercise!"

"Meredith! You and me!" Adrianne declared in a shrill voice.

"No!" Lynn said, fixing the 17-year old in a harsh glare, "I'll be selecting your partners."

Meredith glanced around at her potential competitors. There were her two friends she had met through training, Adrianne and Kelda, as well as her obnoxious brother Erving. She briefly prayed her aunt wouldn't stick her with him. He was a major braggart and never bothered hiding the fact that he was jealous of his sister's talents.

There were also two other guys that Meredith never paid much attention to. During training, the girls would hang with the girls and vice versa. She observed the two young men now, scrutinizing them.

One was a taller, older boy with dirty blonde hair and lightly tanned skin. He was slightly muscular with eyes that shone like dark pools. His expression was unreadable at the moment. The other one, however, was a newer member and he fit the definition of beach bum to a T with shaggy brown hair and a boomerang as his weapon.

Too bad for him, they would be sparring with knives.

"Knives are important to have, especially if you use a long-ranged weapon," Lynn was saying as she passed out the large blades, "Keep them with you in case you're forced into close combat."

Then she paired everyone up. To Meredith's dismay, she was paired with the newbie beach bum. She glanced around, confused. _But he's so far beneath me in skill level…surely she knows that?_

"Mako Moray." The young man greeted, shaking her hand.

She gave him a curt nod and took a step back, tensing her muscles. _This won't last long. _Her aunt gave them the signal to begin, and she was instantly on him. She slammed the force of her body into him, catching him off guard and sending him reeling backwards. She slashed one of her knives at him and he barely managed to block the blow. She aimed another blow at his chest and the blade ripped into his protective padding.

He clumsily took a swipe in her direction, but she easily dodged, making the most of her superior agility. _God, this is boring… _She thought, letting him take a few more swipes. She easily avoided each one of them, hoping that her mentor was seeing this.

Just when she was considering ending it, an ear-piercing scream filled the training center. Everyone froze, looking to where Kelda was facing her opponent. Everyone except Meredith, who rammed into Mako and sent him stumbling backwards like a fool. But he didn't retaliate, craning his neck to see what was happening.

Kelda was pinned to the ground by her opponent, the lithe boy with the dirty blonde hair. His knife was pressed to her throat. The poor girl's eyes were wide with fear and she was struggling to get away, but he held her firmly in place.

"Zale!" Lynn snapped, zipping over and yanking him off of her, "That's enough."

He sprang up, looking perfectly innocent. "Sorry about that," He said smoothly, offering a hand to Kelda, "But just so you know, screaming like that isn't gonna get you anywhere when you're in a real life or death situation."

She ignored him, panting raggedly as she regained her feet. Her eyes were red as if she were going to cry. Meredith instinctively moved in to comfort her friend, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"I think we're done for today, anyways. We've gone overtime." Lynn said, looking at her watch, "Good luck at the Reaping tomorrow, everyone."

Kelda shakily started making her way towards the locker room, while Adrianne hurried over to guide her. The three boys rushed on ahead, Erving chattering excitedly to Mako.

"You two go on without me," Meredith told her friends in a low voice, "I need to talk to my aunt." She approached Lynn and began helping her put the knives away. "So why did you pair me up with Mako? Why would you pair _me _with the weakest student in the class?"

Lynn didn't spare her a glance; "I paired you with him because those are the sorts of tributes you'll be facing with the Career pack. Weak, unskilled tributes that may cause you to feel pity." She turned and caught her niece's eye, a small smile spreading across her face, "But you didn't hold back at all. And that's why you're going to be District 4's tribute this year."

Meredith felt warmth flow through her at her mentor's praise. "And…the male tribute?"

Lynn arched an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious?"

Meredith gritted her teeth. Obviously, the beach bum and her reckless brother weren't the top candidates. "Can't you tell Mako to volunteer? He'd be so much easier to off than Zale."

"It's Zale's last year…" Lynn's expression suddenly darkened, "Besides, there's no convincing that boy. He's doing it for his sister."

"His sister?" Meredith echoed.

"Coral Covent. Poor girl…she was a sweetheart." Lynn's eyes clouded with memory. Meredith left her alone, realizing that she must have mentored Coral in the past. She packed up her stuff and met with her two friends to walk home. Kelda was complaining about Zale, how he had no right to be so violent in a simple training session.

"Adrianne…" Meredith said suddenly, "Do you remember a Coral Covent from any of the Games reruns we've watched together?"

"Sounds familiar…she might've been in the one we just watched." Adrianne said, racking her brain, "Why?"

"Zale had a sister in the Games—and she didn't win. Hopefully, her brother will go the same way."

Suddenly, Zale pushed past them, going at a brisk pace. His fists were clenched at his sides and his body was rigid with anger. Kelda and Adrianne froze, letting out small squeaks of fear, like children that had been caught misbehaving. Meredith just rolled her eyes.

"Do you think he heard you?" Kelda whispered fearfully.

"As if I care." Meredith snorted, "Come on, let's get out of here."

* * *

"Welcome home, Zale! How was your last day of training?"

Zale wearily walked inside his house and came face-to-face with his beaming parents. "Fine." He said curtly, already heading up the steps to his room. He closed the door behind him before they could provoke a conversation out of him. Then he flopped onto his bed, breathing a deep sigh of relief. He lay there a long time, his arms flung over his face, breathing in and out through his nostrils.

He thought about his parents with smiles plastered onto their faces. It had been 8 years since Coral had died…did they even care? No, of course not. As long as they had one child to secure them a place in the Victor's Village, everything was fine. That was all they cared about. Everything else was just a show for him, to make him feel loved.

He fingered the locket under his shirt, remembering his sister's words. _Promise you'll hang onto this for me…just until I get back. _

_Hopefully, her brother will go the same way._

Meredith's words popped into his head, blotting out Coral's voice. He smirked and let out a dry laugh. "You wish," he muttered to no one in particular. He knew Meredith would be volunteering this year and he had taken the time during practice to study her. It was obvious she thought she was better than everyone else, just by the way she carried herself. But she had another thing coming to her if she thought she was better than _him_.

At the same time, he knew she would be a valuable teammate. If she joined the Career pack, as he planned to do, they would have to learn to work together.

Closing his eyes, he remembered how his sister had tried to hold her own against the Career pack. She didn't want to join their bloodthirsty ranks and chose the path of a loner…even in the Hunger Games, she continued to try and preserve her little brother's innocence. That was her downfall. She should have killed. She should have smeared the arena with her victims' blood.

As he fell asleep, Zale swore to himself that he wouldn't make the same mistake. _He _would be the one to paint the arena red. He would avenge Coral's death or die trying.

* * *

The next morning, Zale prepared for the Reaping. As he adjusted his blue tie and straightened out his black shirt, he could see his parents watching him, their faces full of pride. He knew what they were thinking. It was so obvious. _Our son is fantastic! He'll definitely bring home a win for us…not like that sister of his. She didn't even want to enter the Hunger Games, but not Zale. He actually cares about what his family wants._

Yeah, right.

They headed out the door and embarked on the short walk to the Reaping square. Zale tried to separate himself from his parents without saying goodbye, but his mother snatched him in a tight hug. He just endured it, saying nothing. When they let him go, he silently signed in, ignoring those around him.

He recognized a few people from years back, kids he used to call his friends. But after Coral died, he had broken off every last one of his relationships. He briefly wondered if any of his old acquaintances remembered him and hated him for it. After all, they were only 10 when it happened, and losing a friend was a pretty big deal at that age.

_Well, if I haven't forgotten their faces, I'm sure they haven't forgotten mine. _Zale thought, placing himself among strangers.

He listened to a conversation between two fellow 18-year olds and a girl that was hanging around them. By the way she talked and laughed far too often, it was easy to see she was flirting with one of them. Zale turned his head ever so slightly to observe them.

Reading others was so simple. This girl may have been flirting with one of the guys, but by the way her eyes kept flicking towards the other one, it was easy to tell whom she liked. Every time she said something funny, she'd imperceptibly check to see if he laughed. The boy who she was hitting on was blushing furiously…what a pathetic sap…

Zale couldn't help but snicker. The girl looked at him curiously, drawing her admirer to see him as well.

"_What_?" She said, rather rudely.

"Don't mind me," Zale said innocently, "Go on…this is really entertaining."

"Um, excuse me? We're not here for your entertainment." The girl said, rolling her eyes.

"I know," Zale responded smoothly, a cruel smirk unraveling on his face, "I just found it funny how you're flirting with this boy when you're so obviously interested in his best friend. Don't you think it's kind of rude to lead him on like that?"

All three of the teenagers gave a start. The girl's face turned bright red and she spluttered, "I'm not-! It's-! ...Ugh! Just stay out of my business!" She turned and stormed off.

The two boys she left behind glared at Zale. "What the heck, man?"

Zale cleared away his smirk and tried to keep a straight face, "The Reaping's starting." He said flatly, motioning to the stage. He fixed his attention on the announcer, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride sweep over him. He loved showing off how perceptive he was.

He could hear the two guys grumbling to one another. They were definitely going to have to deal with that girl later and boy was it going to be awkward. Too bad he wouldn't be around to watch the drama unfold.

Chuckling, he watched the escort draw the name of the girl.

"Tetra Anglerelli."

"I volunteer."

Sure enough, Meredith stepped out from the crowd and calmly started making her way to the stage. Zale's eyes followed her as he waited for someone to step forward and challenge her for it. Of course, no one did.

"Name?" The escort said, holding out the microphone.

"Meredith Calaghan." Meredith said coolly, crossing her arms.

"Calaghan…as in Lynn Calaghan?" The escort said, looking back to where the victors sat onstage. Lynn nodded proudly.

"She's my aunt." Meredith confirmed.

"Well, we couldn't be more proud to have you here." The escort said kindly, "Now let's meet who will be competing alongside you…" She snatched up a piece of paper and read, "Ridley Olivine."

"I volunteer!" Zale's voice rang out, confident and determined. He quickly made his way up to the stage in the same manner that Meredith did, with no one challenging him for the spot. The escort welcomed him cordially, gratitude shining in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking. _Two volunteers for District 4 this year! Thank goodness._

She told them to shake hands and Zale gripped Meredith's in his own, feeling the calluses in them. At the same time, he scrutinized her muscular body with his gaze. She was going to be a tough competitor.

Suddenly, she jerked her hand away with a glare. He sheepishly realized he had held onto it for too long. _She probably thinks I was checking her out, _He thought, avoiding her gaze. Instead, he turned his attention to the crowd. As the escort announced their names once more, they broke out into a round of applause.

Without much difficulty, Zale located his parents. They were cheering louder than anyone. His mother was so overjoyed; tears were running down her face. Zale smiled, but it was a smile as empty as his heart. He didn't feel any happiness.

If they could read their son half as well as he could read his parents, they would know that he wasn't doing this for them.

**District 3 and their career problems. Well…now that they're in the Hunger Games they'll have a whole different kind of Career problem! /ba-DUM chinggg/ /shot/ Regarding District 4, I'm glad they finally have two tough competitors instead of one.  
**

**Also, some tributes don't really have their families/friends totally addressed in a few Reapings. I promise we'll cover anything missed in the Goodbyes.  
**


	4. District Reapings 5 and 6

** At Cole, I don't really have a set plan for updates. I'll try to make it at least once a week, but there are a lot of factors as to whether or not that'll happen. I wanna hurry and get past the Reapings though so I might make a habit of going every three days for now.  
**

**And to my dear guest, this story isn't breaking the rules; I made sure to follow appropriate protocol. I'd be happy to talk to you about it, but it seems you don't have an account (or if you do, you were too cowardly to use your real one, which is understandable), so I hope you don't mind that I responded on here. Still, I would really appreciate it if you just let me write my story in peace, as many people seem to enjoy it. :)  
**

**Sorry if this chapter's shorter than the others. I'm starting to burn out...Reapings and interviews are always the hardest to get through.  
**

**District 5**

Isaac let out a sigh of relief as he set the last bowl on the table. "Dinner!" He called wearily, his voice reaching to every corner of their tiny house. A moment later the 13-year old twins, George and Adriana, came running in looking famished. Their mother, Maria, shuffled in more slowly.

The four of them gathered around the rickety dinner table to eat. George snatched up a spoon and stuck it into the watery soup, stirring it around. He scooped up a large spoonful and scrutinized its contents. "Ugh…bean soup?" He said, wrinkling his nose.

"It's all we have." Isaac said patiently, practically collapsing into his chair, "Try some, Mother."

But Maria just gazed forlornly into her soupy reflection, her eyes glazed. She was lost in her own world.

"I'd like to see _you _do better, George." Adriana said as she gulped down her meal, narrowing her eyes at her brother, "At least it's warm and at least it's _something_. Isaac, if you want, we could cook dinner and help you clean sometime."

Isaac smiled at his little sister, "Don't you worry about that. You just focus on your studies." Though he had to admit, the idea sounded nice. Between school, his job, and taking care of the family, he could have used a break. But he wanted the twins to get a good education. He didn't want to see them stressed out either.

"Hey, the Reaping's tomorrow." George piped up, "That means tesserae!"

Isaac nodded. He hadn't let George and Adriana put their names in more than once, but he had put in for plenty himself. At least they had that to look forward to.

A strangled sob suddenly broke free from their mother, who had been sitting quietly until now. "You wouldn't have had to put in for tesserae if Heinz hadn't left. We wouldn't be living like this. We'd be eating nice meals every night…and it's all my fault!" She buried her face in her hands and starting crying hysterically.

Sighing, Isaac reached across the table and gently peeled her hands from her face. He took them in his own and said soothingly, "Come on, you know it's not your fault. It's been three years since he left, and we're doing just fine. Come on…"

She just sniffled, her gaunt face slick with tears. The twins watched her with wide eyes as Isaac rubbed his thumbs rhythmically along her knuckles. They went through this every single night. Ever since their father had run off with that woman and left behind a hysterical mess of a wife.

Rage burned inside Isaac at the thought of that man. He hated how Maria always blamed herself when she couldn't possibly have done anything about her husband's uncontrollable lust. He could still remember the day they came home to an empty house. His father hadn't returned by nightfall and his mother rounded up the neighbors to look for him. And in the morning…they found him in the new life he had made for himself.

It affected Isaac more than either of his younger siblings. He tried talking to his dad, but Heinz told him that he wanted a new start with a different woman, a woman who was a great deal younger than Maria. He told Isaac that he still wanted his children to be apart of his life, but only on his terms.

From that day forward, Isaac resented his father. He cut all ties with him, refusing to acknowledge the man for what he had done to their family. As if in retaliation, Heinz decided to give them only a sixth of his salary from then on. They moved out of their wealthy neighborhood and into the slums, unable to keep up with expenses. Isaac supposed that was his father's way to finally shake his family off once and for all. It didn't bode well to have your ex wife living so close.

Even three years later, his mother was still a wreck. Isaac had taken it upon himself to make sure his family survived.

"Come on, Mother, let's get you to bed. You'll feel better in the morning." Isaac told her gently. He knew it was untrue. She never seemed to get any better.

Nodding mutely, Maria allowed her son to help her up and guide her back to her bedroom. The twins eyed her untouched soup, their stomachs still growling for food.

As if reading their minds, Isaac called back softly, "Split the rest of the soup."

He helped his mother into bed, and then ran to get her a glass of water. As she drank it, he told her that she would have to get dressed for the Reaping tomorrow. She couldn't wear the same nightgown she always did. Maria nodded, but the glazed look had returned to her eyes and Isaac wondered if she heard him.

Eyelids feeling heavy, Isaac wandered back to his room (which he shared with the twins) and flopped down onto the bed. The three of their beds took up most of the room, lined up side by side. Sometimes it was hard to sleep because the twins would break out into arguments when George accidentally rolled onto Adriana's bed.

But Isaac was so exhausted that he fell right to sleep. His dreams were uncomfortable, with flashing images of the Reaping that was to come. He could see each of the twins getting reaped, standing on the stage together, looking petrified. He tried to volunteer in their place, but when he got to the stage, every single face had turned into his father's.

He woke up in a cold sweat. The twins were curled up in their beds, sleeping peacefully. Their slow breathing filled the room, instantly calming Isaac. No one had been reaped. All was well.

Isaac laid his head back down on the pillow and allowed sleep to carry him off once more.

* * *

"And how are you feeling today, Vera?"

"I'm fine, Mom." Vera answered curtly, feeling a spark of indignation at the way her mother spoke to her. As if there were something wrong with her, like she was one of her patients from work.

Vera saw her older half-brother, Isaac, shoot her a disapproving glance, but she gave no signs of seeing it. She was focused on her breakfast: strawberry pancakes with a side of sausage. Both of her parents were hardly ever home, but when they were, their children reaped the benefits.

Reaped. The Reaping was later today.

"You're awfully quiet…are you sure you're not nervous?" Vera's mother, Vivian, continued in that same irksome voice. Vivian worked as a psychiatrist, a doctor that treats mental disorders, and she always had this sympathetic way of speaking as if she thought there was something wrong with everyone. Then again, maybe her voice was just stuck like that. Either way, it grated on Vera's nerves.

"I said I'm fine." Vera said, stabbing at a bit of pancake with her fork.

"Of course she's nervous," Isaac cut in, mumbling through a mouthful of food, "Who isn't feeling nervous on Reaping day? Well, except for those Careers, but they're not quite right in the head…"

"No, they're not." Vera agreed. She wondered if there was a reason for it…was there a certain diagnosis pertaining to serial killers? Perhaps antisocial personality disorder or intermittent explosive disorder. Or maybe those kids were just raised to be bloodthirsty.

_I sound like my mother… _Vera thought, snorting inwardly. Well, she certainly couldn't deny Vivian's line of work was interesting. She enjoyed seeing the world through her eyes and trying to diagnose each individual she came across.

"Is everyone ready?" Her father asked as he came into the kitchen, "We'd better get going if we're going to make it to the Reaping in time."

Vera had been keeping an eye on the time up until now. "We still have five minutes," She said smoothly. She quickly went upstairs to brush her teeth and finish getting ready. She put her dark hair into its usual loose bun and observed herself in the mirror, making sure she looked presentable.

Isaac suddenly appeared behind her, smiling. Even though they had different mothers, he still had the same pale skin and sharp features that his sister did. The only difference was his copper-brown hair and eyes.

"Time to go." He reminded her.

The family of four lived a good distance from the location of the Reaping so they took a trolley to get there. The ride was dull and Vera entertained herself by observing others.

_Depression. _Vera thought, looking at a tired middle-aged woman slumped in her seat. Her face contained traces of grief. Vera guessed at her hidden past. Perhaps she had lost a child to the Games. Maybe she had no one left in her family and she was lonely. Vera turned her attention away from her to focus on someone else.

_Anxiety Disorder. _A little boy was nearly in hysterics, a constant stream of whimpering coming from his mouth. His older sibling tried to comfort him, but to no avail. This was obviously his first Reaping. But really, there was nothing to be nervous about, unless he put in tesserae. Otherwise, he'd only have a single slip in there.

She assigned a few more disorders to random people, but most everyone seemed to be upset or nervous. She knew these were all ordinary people with nothing wrong with them, and she felt a twinge of guilt for giving them labels. So she remained silent and tried to stop judging those around her for the remainder of the ride.

* * *

Isaac made sure his mother was situated in the family section before going off and helping the twins sign in. He accompanied Adriana to the 13-year old section for girls, and then led George to the boys' section. Then he was on his own.

As he meandered through the crowd, he spotted a familiar face that made his heart leap. "Gregory!" He shouted, waving an arm at his best friend.

Gregory turned at the sound of his voice. At the same time, Isaac spotted Ivanka, Gregory's girlfriend, hanging off his arm. He felt a flash of annoyance. _Does he have to take her everywhere he goes?_

"Hey Isaac!" Gregory greeted, trotting over with Ivanka at his side.

She smiled at him, and said a friendly hello. Isaac tried to push his dislike for her aside and remain cordial.

"What's up? You sign in yet?" Gregory wondered. Isaac nodded. Gregory unlinked arms with Ivanka, turning a fond gaze to her. "I'd better go. See you later." He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. She smiled shyly and left to go to her respective section.

Isaac and Gregory slid in with the other 17-year old boys. "Thanks for keeping the PDA to a minimum." Isaac said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

It was lost on Gregory. "No problem, dude. I know how that makes some people uncomfortable." He said, craning his neck to find out where his girl had gone.

Isaac immediately felt bad for it. "Sorry." He muttered.

Gregory looked back at him, eyes curious. "Huh?"

"Never mind."

Gregory shrugged and silence stretched between them. Isaac suddenly felt very awkward, as if he needed to say something to break it. Before he could, the mayor appeared on stage and the Reaping began. He let out a sigh of relief and absorbed himself in it. The escort for their district seemed relatively normal when compared to the rest, and she genuinely seemed to care about the tributes. He couldn't help but feel a little bit respectful towards her, as she said the usual words about the Dark Days.

Then it was time to choose the female tribute. Isaac silently crossed his fingers, hoping with all his might that it wouldn't be his little sister. _Only two slips…just two… _He thought, trying to calm himself, _The odds are in her favor…_

"Vera Neuros."

Isaac let out a huge sigh of relief. Gregory smiled and gave his friend a light pat on the back. Warmth rushed through Isaac. He was far too thankful to feel pity for the girl that had been reaped.

_Thank goodness!_

* * *

It took Vera a few seconds to realize she had stopped breathing. With a sharp gasp, she sucked in the air around her and began panting feverishly. Her navy-blue eyes were wide with shock.

No. She never put in for tesserae. There were hundreds of slips in there and her name was only on six of them. No, she wasn't reaped. Impossible.

She looked around frantically. By the way everyone was looking at her, with a mixture of pity and relief, she knew it hadn't been a hallucination. Peacekeepers were starting to move towards her too. But she didn't want to be dragged to the stage like some sort of shell-shocked little girl. So she forced her heavy limbs into motion, parting the crowd as she made her way towards the stage.

Vera knew she looked frightened, but didn't bother smoothing her features. Who cared if the other tributes would view her as weak? She was scared for her life, and she didn't care who knew it.

There was a soft touch on her shoulder, as a Peacekeeper steered her towards the stage. She looked at the middle-aged woman and was surprised to see a glint of remorse in her eyes. She guided a shaky Vera up the steps, then returned to her position. The escort asked her how she was, but the words were lost on Vera. She had turned her attention to the massive amount of District 5 citizens in front of her, scanning them. Her only consolation would be the sight of her brother, if she could locate him.

With a jolt, she realized the escort had already moved on to select the male tribute. She cleared her throat and read…

"Isaac—"

_No. NO! Not my brother! Please not—_

"Ross."

Vera gave a shaky sigh of relief and pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back a smile. At that moment, she caught her brother's eye. He looked indescribably upset, shock lining every corner of his face. Vera's smile disappeared instantly as she recalled her situation.

"Vera Neuros and Isaac Ross, our two tributes for District 5…" The escort declared. The district clapped without vigor, their faces grim. "Now if you'll please shake hands…"

Vera faced this other Isaac, who barely resembled her brother. He was tall and lanky with brown hair and hazel eyes. There was some acne on his cheeks as well as a few spots of facial hair that he seemed to miss while shaving. His eyelids were weighed down with fatigue, but Vera could see the anger that sparked behind them.

She felt a thrill of fear mixed with curiosity, wondering what this boy's story was and what they would be facing together in the next week of their lives.

**District 6**

"Mommy, will you tell me a story tonight?" Viola asked, snuggling deep into the soft covers of her bed. She smiled endearingly up at her mother, Arietta, who had paused with her finger on the light switch.

She smiled gently at her daughter. "Aren't you getting a little bit old for stories?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Never." Viola said firmly, shaking her head, "Besides, tomorrow's my first…" A tremor ran through her at the thought of the Reaping. Her name was only in there once. She really had nothing to fear.

"All right," Her mom agreed, coming over to sit at the edge of the bed, "What story would you like to hear? A new one?"

Viola grinned. Her mother was bursting with all sorts of stories to tell, but tonight she wanted to hear one in particular. "Will you tell me about the spirits?"

Arietta nodded, her eyes growing distant as she entered the realm of storytelling. But when she began to speak, her voice took on a smooth, lyrical tone that Viola loved to hear. She settled back and closed her eyes, just listening to her mother.

"A human's life is fragile. Their body can be broken a number of ways, but their spirit cannot. That is why, when we die, our spirits leave our bodies."

"Where do they go?" Viola asked softly. She knew the answer, but her role was to ask questions in this scenario, bridging her mother's thoughts together.

"Many of them wander the earth, but you can't see them. They go in and out of time, searching for those that will help them move on to the next world. They're lost and terribly lonely, but one day they'll find what they're looking for. Then they can finally be at peace."

Viola felt sadness wash over her. "What happens to the bad people?" She asked, thinking of the bloodthirsty Careers from past Games.

"There are no bad people." Arietta said softly, reaching out and petting her daughter's glossy black hair. "Only misguided ones. Everyone has a little bit of good in them, sweetie. These people wander until they find forgiveness…until they have no unfinished business."

Viola felt a spark of anger so fierce that it felt someone was stabbing her with a hot poker. "President Snow is a bad person." She said bitterly.

Her mother didn't respond, already having moved on in her story. "But if your spirit is pure, you'll go to a beautiful place far from this world. A place with a forest full of golden leaves; trees with the sweetest fruit you've ever tasted."

Viola's mouth watered at the thought of it. She imagined sinking her teeth into the most delicious mango in the world. As her mother went on, she grew sleepy, and began to drift off.

"There's a rosy sky with a warm sun. And when it rains, it sprinkles down from the heavens and creates a rainbow. And it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen." Arietta smiled at her sleeping daughter, whispering, "Someday, we can go there together. And we'll never leave. Good night, sweetie."

She kissed Viola's forehead and quietly left the room, turning out the lights behind her. Outside the door stood her husband, Quinn. He was leaning against the wall, a relaxed smile on his face. Arietta smiled sweetly when she saw him.

"Did you enjoy the story?"

"Someday you're going to have to stop filling her head with such flippant ideas. This isn't the kind of world we live in." He spoke quietly, but there was grief behind the words.

"Oh, let her be young." Arietta chided gently.

"She'll have to wake up sooner or later." Quinn sighed, "And considering the Reaping is tomorrow…"

"Let's not think about that." Arietta said, pushing a finger to her husband's lips. Her eyes were wide with concern. "Let's just go to bed and not think about it…"

That night, Viola dreamed of District 6. But it wasn't the District 6 she knew.

The air was clean and the sun shone brightly through white clouds, untouched by factory smog. Before her eyes, the hard pavement crumbled to bits as grass and flowers forced their way up from the ground. Tall trees dotted with fruit shot towards the sky. An assortment of animals Viola had only ever seen in books came running to see the new environment.

Viola just laughed and closed her eyes, feeling the warm sun on her skin and hearing the birds sing joyfully. She felt completely at peace.

If only it weren't just a dream.

* * *

Piston had been looking forward to sleeping in on Reaping day. He was dead tired from working a double shift and had practically collapsed onto his bed after coming home. He hadn't even had the strength to change out of his work clothes.

The 18-year old only managed to get a few hours sleep before being shaken awake by a pair of angry Peacekeepers.

"Wha…?" He groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Are you Piston Mills?" One said in a sharp voice. The man's hand was clamped roughly on Piston's shoulder. He winced as the Peacekeeper dug his fingers into his skin.

"Uh…yeah…" Piston mumbled.

The pair roughly yanked him out of bed and forced him to stand. He spotted his family standing in the doorway. His two little sisters, Kat and Maya, were wide-eyed with fear. His father, Henrik, stood back with his head bowed. The Peacekeepers shoved past them and hauled Piston towards the front door.

"Hold up!" Piston shouted, instantly awake, "What's going on? What'd I do?"

"Don't play dumb," The first Peacekeeper snarled, "We know what you were planning!"

"What are you talking about?!" Piston demanded.

Neither of them responded.

With a roar, he tore his arms away and freed himself from the Peacekeepers. He towered over both of them, with firm muscles that came from a life of working. He knew he could take both of these guys, but before he could move, they drew their weapons. He froze, panting, looking at each gun in turn. Glancing behind him, he saw Maya with tears running down her face. He wondered if the Peacekeepers would really shoot him in front of his family.

"I think I have a right to know what I did." Piston said in the calmest voice he could muster. He wasn't about to let them drag him off without an answer.

"We know you've joined a union," A Peacekeeper growled, refusing to lower his weapon, "We were given a list of rebels and you're one of them."

Piston just blinked.

"What? Didn't realize what you had signed up for?" The Peacekeeper continued in a mocking voice.

Piston had indeed joined a union after hearing about it from a coworker. The way the older man had talked about it had made everything sound so exciting. "But—I didn't _do _anything." He argued.

"As if that makes a difference." The Peacekeeper scoffed, "It's what you were planning to do that matters. Anyways, enough chat!" He prodded Piston with the muzzle his gun and forced him out the door. They started walking towards town; Piston briefly wondered if he could make a break for it.

"Please…" Came a soft voice. The three turned to see Henrik following them at a slow pace. He kept his head down respectfully, avoiding the Peacekeepers' eyes, "Please, there must be some mistake. I know my son well…he wouldn't get involved with this sort of thing."

The Peacekeepers ignored him, forcing Piston to keep moving. Henrik merely bowed his head and retreated back into his home. Piston felt sick to his stomach at his father's cowardice. He had half a mind to sock the Peacekeepers in the jaw and get on with his business, but he kept reminding himself of the gun being pointed his way.

The Peacekeepers herded him into town where the Reaping would be held in an hour. Piston spotted a few familiar faces from work tied to whipping posts, their shirts off and their backs bleeding heavily. He recognized the man who had told him about the union. He appeared to be passed out, but as Piston approached, he lifted his head and shot an apologetic glance at the boy.

"Go easy on this one, Griffin." Piston's Peacekeeper told the man who held the whip, "He's young…still eligible for the Hunger Games."

"Oh really?" Griffin gave a light chuckle, "That's certainly interesting."

Piston glared at the Head Peacekeeper with all of the ferocity he could muster. Griffin looked unimpressed, his tongue flicking out and licking up a stray bit of blood that had spattered on his face. He may not have been as buff as other Peacekeepers, but Griffin was notorious for his bloodlust—and his meticulous appearance. God forbid anyone should mess with his perfect hair of makeup.

"Tie him up." Griffin ordered.

With a snarl, Piston lunged at the young man. Instantly, Griffin reached out and struck him across the face, throwing him off balance. Piston stumbled, eyes watering, his cheek stinging furiously. Hands grabbed him from behind, jerking him towards a post to tie him up. His shirt was swiped off of him as well.

When he was securely in place, Griffin strolled over, flicking his whip. "So how many lashes would be considered 'going easy' on you?" The man said in a singsong voice.

Piston didn't respond. Suddenly, white-hot pain seared up his back and the whip cracked in his ear. Piston couldn't help let out a small cry.

"I asked you a question and you ignored me!" Griffin whined, sounding offended.

"One." Piston spit out between his teeth.

From the silence that followed, Piston knew he had made the Head Peacekeeper mad. He waited for him to say something. Suddenly, he felt Griffin's breath tickling his ear. "Your ears will bleed from the sound of your own screams." He hissed. His words were followed by a deep laugh.

Piston braced himself to feel the pain of the whip, but it never came. For some reason, Griffin started screaming. Piston looked up to see the Head Peacekeeper holding his eye, looking around furiously. The other rebels had stirred and looked to see what was happening.

Piston scanned the area and spotted a group of little kids scatter from the area. A tiny Asian girl with her hair in two braided pigtails was holding a slingshot. She pointed a finger at Griffin, shouted, "For justice!" and disappeared along with her friends.

"Those petulant little brats!" Griffin spat, looking furious. He removed his hand from his eye to reveal a red welt starting to form. Piston noted with a small amount of satisfaction that the man's eyeliner was smeared.

Peacekeepers went scrambling after the little ones, while Griffin threw down his whip in frustration. He glared furiously at Piston with his bad eye—the other one was covered by a curtain of white bangs. "Well, I suppose I should let you get to the Reaping…but we're far from finished, you understand me?" His gaze swept over the other injured workers. "Someone see to it they get medical attention." He grumbled, turning away.

Piston was released from his bounds. He fell to his knees, feeling his back. There wasn't a trace of blood, but his skin felt like it was on fire. He stumbled to his feet and took off, trying to put as much distance between himself and the Peacekeepers as possible.

* * *

Giggling, Viola sprinted into a nearby alley as her friends disappeared around her. She could hear Peacekeeper shouts quickly fading in the distance. She thrust her slingshot into her bag and doubled her speed.

The face of the Head Peacekeeper when she had shot him was so priceless…she couldn't help but wear a large grin on her face. She would have to congratulate her friends on a job well done when she saw them later. Their initial plan had been to vandalize the Reaping stage, but when they saw those factory workers being whipped, they couldn't help but step in.

Now all she needed to do was find a crowd headed for the Reaping and immerse herself in them. Then she would lose the Peacekeepers once and for all.

She could see a light at the end of the alley that would lead to the town square. Just a few more steps and she would be safe.

Suddenly, one of her pigtails was pulled taut. She let out a fearful cry as a strong pair of hands forced her to the ground. She hit her chin on the pavement, flinching as pain rattled through her teeth.

"Well, well, fancy meeting you here…" Came a lilting voice from above.

Viola's heart sunk. Oh, no. Never had she been caught by a Peacekeeper. She held the record among her friends. But now, of all people, why did she have to be captured by _him_?

Griffin hoisted her to her feet, but kept a firm hold on her arm, digging his nails into her skin. She tried to face up to him bravely. She noticed his bad eye was half-closed and streaming, his purple eyeliner comically running down his face. But his white lips were still curled in a sneer that made her heart race. He reached up and brushed at his white bangs, revealing his other eye, which had an ugly, jagged scar going across it. Viola's stomach roiled in fear and her resolve weakened considerably.

"You don't have to look so frightened," Griffin purred, "What's your name?"

Viola sealed her lips shut, refusing to speak to this monstrous person. She could smell the blood on his breath and it made her want to hurl.

"Stupid girl." Griffin hissed. His other hand flew to her throat with lightning precision.

"Viola!" She gasped, choking on the pressure applied to her jugular.

"Viola _what_?"

"Viola Cione."

Griffin instantly released her throat, looking satisfied. "Viola Cione," He uttered softly, "How abominably precious."

Viola swallowed nervously, massaging her bruised throat with her free hand. She silently willed Griffin to let her go, but he was still looking rather thoughtful.

"Well, Viola, there's still the outstanding matter of your punishment…"

Viola squeezed her eyes shut, holding back tears. She found herself desperately wishing for her parents.

"…But you're such a sweet child. I can't help but forgive you." With a laugh, he released her arm. Viola looked up at him curiously, confused at the teasing smile that was playing across his features. "On your way, little one." He said, patting her head. Then he turned and strolled away, humming under his breath.

Viola escaped from the alley, practically melting with relief. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe there _was _a little bit of good in everyone.

Still, she didn't feel like associating with her friends after that. They would be all over her, considering this was the first time she had ever been captured. They would want to know what happened. So she located her parents and stayed with them until it was time to sign in.

As she made her way over to the 12-year old section for girls, she looked around for the boy who had been whipped. He wasn't hard to find. He was _huge _with broad shoulders and a muscular build. His skin was light brown unlike her own pale complexion, and he had short dark brown hair. She spotted him among the 18-year olds, but went on her way, knowing he wouldn't recognize her.

When the Reaping began, Viola almost didn't recognize the escort. He had run out and gotten himself a ridiculous puffy wig, twice the size of his head. She was used to him being bald and boring. At least he seemed a little bit more chipper than usual as he welcomed everyone to the Reaping.

During the speech on the Dark Days, Viola kept herself calm, knowing that there was nothing to fear. She only hoped that her friends wouldn't get reaped, as they had taken tesserae while she had not.

Her brown eyes were calm as the escort reached in and selected the female tribute.

"Viola Cione."

Viola's eyes widened and complete despair swept over her fragile little body. She could see other young girls, looking at her with a mixture of shock and pity. Trying to control her emotions, she stepped out of line, ignoring the pity in everyone's eyes. Nothing was more sorrowful than a 12-year old being reaped.

Viola tried to hold head high as she made the short trek to the stage, but tears sprang from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. By the time she reached the stage, the escort had already moved on to selecting the male tribute.

"Piston Mills."

* * *

Piston let out a heavy sigh.

He should have expected this. He had taken out tesserae after all, and there was no way he would go unpunished for that union gig. _A shame it was my last year too... _He took a deep breath and made his way towards the stage, trying to offer up a smile as he went. When he was standing next to the escort, he waved to the crowd. They just stared back, wondering what on earth was wrong with him.

"Shake hands." The escort yawned, motioning to the little girl that had been reaped alongside him.

Piston's eyebrows shot up in surprise as he realized that this was the little girl who had shot Griffin in the eye. She looked dreadful, her face puckered with grief, tears making her pretty blouse wet. Piston gave her hand a comforting squeeze, but she just reached up and wiped at her face, avoiding his eyes.

Together, the two of them were escorted off the stage by Peacekeepers. As they were led towards the car that would take them to the Justice Building, someone stepped up to meet them.

It was Griffin, his white lips stretched wide on his face. "My, my, karma is a funny thing, isn't it?" He threw his head back and laughed as Piston and Viola were forced into the car by other guards. Griffin slammed the door behind them with a sort of finality to it, as if he were sealing their fates. Even as they left the Reaping behind them, Piston could still hear the man's laughs echoing in his ears…

**I made a tiny change to Piston's background. The lashing was supposed to happen a year ago, but I thought this pair of Reapings could have used a bit more pizzazz. Also Griffin is one of my tributes and Mako is one of my sister's tributes. XD I'm not very creative when it comes to filler characters.  
**


	5. District Reapings 7 and 8

**100 reviews! :3 Yeah, I think we'll beat the 43****rd**** unless a bunch of people drop off. Which usually seems to correlate to when the tributes start dropping dead. But I'm still optimistic we can reach 1000! (which is my other goal :P)**

**Oh yes, and from now on I'll be moderating the guest reviews. Because not accepting profiles and having a popular story means an influx of vengeful people with their pants in a bunch. Yay censorship! But I'll probably wind up accepting most of them anyways because I like to see the review count go up. XD  
**

**Ahem…anyways, enjoy this chapter. I'm back in school but I'll try and keep up with the updates, though I think they'll definitely be slowing down. :( Oh yeah and happy birthday Saffron! :B  
**

**District 7**

"Astrid, is dinner ready yet?" Fable wondered, her eyes focused on the sweater she was knitting.

"Mom, we just ate…and I'm Athena." Athena said patiently, trying to smile at her mother.

Fable paused, looking confused. "…What did I call you?"

"Astrid."

"Oh." Fable gave a nervous laugh, "That's my sister, isn't it? Well, you look a great deal like her."

Athena just smiled and nodded.

A few minutes later, her mother repeated the question. "Astrid, is dinner ready yet?"

"I'll go check on it." Athena said kindly, getting up from the ratty couch and moving into the tiny kitchen. As she thought about her mother's condition, she tried to remain optimistic. Her grandmother had died of Alzheimer's, but Fable wasn't a day over 50. Surely she couldn't be suffering from the same disease…

If she were, it would only get worse from here on out. Athena recalled what had happened to their grandmother. As her mind deteriorated, it came to the point that she no longer recognized her family. She became incapable of performing the simplest of tasks, even the rhythmic process of knitting…

No, it wasn't possible. Her mother was just stressed out and becoming forgetful. It didn't mean anything.

She heard a shout from down the hall and her little sister Olive came running into the kitchen. Her face was streaked with tears.

"Hey, hey! What's wrong?" Athena said, intercepting her and wrapping her in a comforting embrace.

"Daddy yelled at me," Olive sniffled, wriggling in Athena's grasp, "He told me to volunteer for the Hunger Games."

Athena narrowed her eyes, but tried to keep smiling for her sister's sake. "Now why would he do that? You're not even old enough to compete! He's just being a goofball, Olive. Don't listen to him."

"But he said we could be rich, and get money for medicine." She babbled on, completely convinced that she had to enter the Games on her father's behalf.

"Look, he's just in one of his moods," Athena said firmly, "You know he can't help it. Just don't be afraid, okay?"

"…Okay." Olive mumbled, but Athena was unconvinced.

"Go sit with Mom for a while. I'll talk to him."

Olive did as her older sister said while Athena went to face her father in his room. He was slumped on the bed, looking depressed. She guessed his manic episode was over.

"Feeling okay?"

He didn't respond.

"You shouldn't say things like that to Olive. She really loves you, you know."

Still, he continued to ignore her, staring blankly at a wall.

Athena was seized by frustration. It was bad enough her dad was bipolar, but with her mom inflicted by Alzheimer's—_stressed and forgetful_, she corrected herself—she felt like she had lost both of her parents. She moved from the room, unwilling to start a pointless argument with the man.

She used to challenge him more often, but one day he snapped. She shivered, remembering the touch of the icy cold water and her lungs feeling as if they were going to burst while she struggled to get away from him._ I'm okay... _She reminded herself, taking a deep breath. But her chest still felt tight at the memory.

"Did you talk to him?" Olive's voice brought her back to her senses. "What'd he say?"

Athena smiled gently at her sister, her green eyes soft. "He said he's sorry and that he doesn't know what he would do if he lost you." Olive smiled a little bit and Athena hugged her. "Come on," She said kindly, "Let's get you to bed."

* * *

_He couldn't understand why his parents looked so upset._

_He had lined up the three squirrels in a neat little row in the grass. He had made their deaths as clean as possible too, just like they had asked. Or at least as clean as a death could be when a hatchet was involved. _

"_Barrett…what have you got there?" Barrett's father asked cautiously, eyeing the bloodstained hatchet in his son's hands._

"_Squirrels from your traps." Barrett replied in a flat voice._

"_Oh, did you get them for dinner, honey?" His mother gave a light laugh, casting a nervous smile at her husband, "See, Emmett? He's just lending you a helping hand."_

_Barrett stared back for a moment, and then gave a subtle shake of his head. "No, no…not for dinner. The squirrels asked me to do it."_

_His mother, Brianne, had a quizzical grin on her face. But he could see the uncertainty that lay behind it. "Asked you to do what, dear…?" She wondered._

"_Sacrifice them," Barrett stated bluntly, "They told me the world would burn if I didn't." The corners of his lips twitched and his eyes lit up with pride. "I just saved us all."_

_But his parents didn't share in his joy for some reason. Instead, they took him to the doctor after that. He had always been such an imaginative little kid, more interested in playing with his invisible friends rather than his real ones. But it wasn't right for a 13-year old to behave this way. Emmett and Brianne had suspected something darker was at work for a few years now…_

_Their suspicions were confirmed when Barrett's diagnosis came out. _

"Do you miss Mommy, Barry?" Echo wondered, swinging her feet back and forth, a small smile on her pale features.

The little girl was peering at him curiously through a sheet of her tangled black hair. Her white dress was stained with dirt, but Barrett didn't mind if she was muddying up his bed. All of his focus was concentrated on scribbling in his notebook.

"Barryyy!" Echo drawled, reaching out and slapping the pencil out of his hand. "I asked youuu—"

"Shush!" Barrett hissed, clapping a hand over his little sister's mouth, "Alpha and Omega are sleeping." He shifted a blanket, revealing two little dust balls curled up together. Their black mustaches quivered as they snored softly. With the two of them sleeping, Barrett could think a bit more clearly. He could get work done.

He looked at his notebook, which was full of incomprehensible scribbles. Frustration swept over him. He muttered something under his breath, glaring at one of the childlike drawings.

Echo smiled sweetly, and said in a quiet voice, "Sorry. I wanted to know if you miss Mommy. Will you tell me about her?"

"I've already told you about her." Barrett said through gritted teeth, returning to his work. How was he supposed to get anything done with her talking to him?!

"But I want to know more." Echo said quietly, sounding sad, "It's not fair. I never even got to meet her."

Barrett slapped down his pencil and growled, "I told you I'm busy!"

"You're mean." Echo said, her face screwing up with tears. She let out a long wail and began to cry. Barrett could see Alpha and Omega stirring. He buried his face in his hands and groaned.

At this moment, Barrett's father, Emmett, appeared in the doorway. "Barrett?" He said, hesitating.

Echo saw him and declared, "I'm telling on you!"

"He won't listen to you anyways!" Barrett snapped.

"Barrett!" Emmett said in a firm voice, "Enough. It's time to get ready. The Reaping…"

"You weren't even _born_. Yes, okay, I know. Just go back to sleep! Everyone stop talking at once!" Barrett shoved his hands over his ears, feeling overwhelmed. He couldn't even hear himself think over the number of senseless voices.

Mr. Emerson just stood there in silence, watching his son curl into a pathetic little ball. He knew he was being assaulted by his hallucinations again. But he was past the point of pity. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of pills. Then he approached his son and forced the medication into his hand.

"…Cat treats?" Barrett said in a faint voice.

"These are your pills," Emmett said slowly and loudly, "These will make the voices go away, all right? So you can stay in control for the Reaping."

"I thought the maid stole my medication." Barrett mumbled.

"No, we just can't afford to buy any more pills so we save them for special occasions," Mr. Emerson explained moving from the room. Before he left, he paused by the door. "And for the record, we don't even have a maid."

Barrett just stared at the bottle in his hand, listening to his father walk down the hall. He popped off the top and poured a capsule in his hand. Echo had ceased her crying now. She was watching her brother curiously.

"Sorry for yelling at you." Barrett apologized, "I know you just want to know about Mom because…because…"

"Because she died before I could be born?" Echo said, smiling sadly.

Barrett could feel guilt filling him up to his fingertips. He held up the pill, knowing this would make his sister disappear for the rest of the day. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye-bye…" She said quietly.

"What are you doing?" A voice said sharply. It was Omega, the dust ball that usually resided on his left shoulder. "Don't take those pills! What if they're poisoned? How will you manage without us?!"

But Barrett had already shoved the pill down his throat. He lay down in his bed and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for a long time. When he opened them, Alpha, Omega, and Echo were all gone. In their place was reality and reason. He gave a deep sigh of relief and reveled in the silence.

But at the back of his mind, fear crept. For he knew his schizophrenia would be back tomorrow, and all of the terrifying visions would return.

* * *

Athena tried to hustle Olive out of the house as fast as possible that morning. They were running late for the Reaping. Both of them wore ragged clothing, as no one in their family owned any formal wear. Athena threw on a T-shirt and her usual pair of dirty sneakers. She didn't bother to brush her untamed hair or apply any makeup.

When they arrived at the Reaping, Athena said a quick goodbye to her parents. Neither of them responded. Feeling a tad melancholy, she rushed to join the line of children signing in.

There was a tug on her shirt and she looked to see Olive clinging to her. "Can I stay with you?" She whispered, her eyes wide. "You looked sad."

"I'm not sad," Athena said, forcing a smile at the little girl, "See? Everything's fine. Just about to watch some innocent kids get reaped and go off to their doom…totally peachy."

Olive just stared at her, saying nothing.

"What?"

"Your birthmark looks like a leaf." Olive said randomly.

Athena's hand flew to her face where the permanent smudge resided, covering it. "Thanks for the update," She said in a joking voice, "I think you'd better go, Olive. Mom and Dad will wonder where you've gone."

"No they won't." Olive said, looking bitter.

"Just go!" Athena sighed, giving her sister a light push, "Don't stay in this line anymore than you have to."

She watched Olive trudge back to the family section. Meanwhile, she was herded off to where the 17-year olds stood. She felt awkward between two girls who had gone all out for the Reaping. One of them shot her a horrified look, as if she thought Athena had some sort of disease.

Athena brushed at her tangled hair, wishing she had spent more time on it. Oh well. It would just get messed up again, so why even bother?

The Reaping began with the usual speech by the mayor and a video on the Dark Days. No one seemed to be paying attention anyways. They were all waiting for the moment the escort would select the tributes…everyone wanted to see who would be carted off to die this year.

Athena tried to remember District 7's tributes from the past year, but their faces and names were lost on her. Now they were just memories, nameless people that had joined the long list of dead children having died in the Games.

"Athena Srajord."

Athena gave a start as the escort announced her name for all to hear. Her eyes widened in disbelief and her everlasting smile dropped from her face instantly.

"Here I am…" She called out, feeling slightly dizzy. She forced herself to start shuffling towards the stage. At first, she felt complete dread. _I'm going to die. _She thought. But then, with each step, something began to grow within her.

This was the opportunity she had been looking for-a way out of her life. There was a ghost of a chance that she could actually hope to come out of the Hunger Games alive…but that was still something, right? And if she won, she would be able to afford medicine for both her mother and her father. Just like the grumpy old man wanted.

As she rose to the stage, her smile reestablished itself. She felt like a fool for it, but she couldn't deny the excitement she felt at the adventure that lay ahead.

* * *

Barrett squinted at the chosen tribute, wondering what she had to smile about. Maybe she had lost her mind. He watched the escort ask her a few questions, then move on to the next victim.

"Barrett Emerson."

Barrett blinked slowly. _I must be hallucinating. _When he was 12, he had imagined the escort called his name. He was preparing to walk to the stage when they grabbed the real tribute and hauled him up there. Later on, his mother had just been going on about how grateful she was that he didn't walk up to the stage. Someone might have mistook that as volunteering.

Now he waited for the same thing to happen, eyes scanning the crowd for whoever had been reaped. Then a thought struck him. He had taken his medication today. At the same moment, he spotted the Peacekeepers coming towards him.

His mouth stretched wide and he began screaming senselessly as reality settled over him. Undaunted, the Peacekeepers gripped his arms and began towing him towards the stage. He writhed madly, feeling like a trapped animal. His head whipped towards the stage to catch sight of the flustered escort and the female tribute, still smiling like this was all very entertaining.

Barrett screamed until his throat was raw, until his cries no longer sounded human. They were nearly to the stage now. Shaking that girl's hand would be like sealing his demise. Suddenly, adrenaline surged through every fiber of his being and he wrenched himself away from his captors. He sprinted blindly down the aisle. A warning shot rang out and people started screaming, a few rushing in a mad panic to escape the vicinity. The fear spread to everyone else and they followed suit.

Another shot rang out, as if to call for order, but it went unheard. Barrett was lost among a swarm of warm bodies, gasping for air. He struggled to make his way through the crowd, through to freedom, but he couldn't move. Something sharp stabbed him in the side of the neck and he turned his head to see a needle embedded in his skin.

His vision became blotched with spots and he felt a wave of nausea sweep over him.

Then, nothing.

**District 8**

_Three blind mice._

_See how they run._

_They all ran after the farmer's wife, _

_Who cut off their tails with a carving knife…_

Flick came to an abrupt halt in the song, his spindly fingers poised over the keys of the dusty piano. He sat there, pondering the lyrics. Why would the farmer's wife merely cut off the mice's tails instead of killing them? Wouldn't that be less painful? Maybe she was sadistic. With a shiver, Flick returned to the merry little tune. He made sure to hit a few wrong notes in case his sister was nearby. He was much better than this, but right now…

Oh, here she came. Flick dissolved into a fit of coughing as she strolled into the room. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she paused to watch him. He began playing the simple melody once more, but his fingers slipped on the keys and he let out a violent sneeze.

"Come on, you're not fooling anyone!" Astron snapped, crossing her arms, "That sick act may fool Dad, but it doesn't fool me! You have to attend the Reaping like everyone else, Flick."

_Darn it. It gets me out of school, so why can't it get me out of the Reaping?_

Flick sighed and quietly began to play a sonata in a minor key. The piano was so out of tune that the notes sounded all wrong, and the middle C wouldn't make a sound for some reason. Even when he slammed into it with his full strength. He spent a few more minutes playing the run-down piano until Astron pulled him from the seat, telling him to get ready.

"Wait," He protested, trying to buy time, "I want to show you a new song I composed…!"

"How many times have I told you…" She sighed, practically dragging him to his room, "You can't be a composer. Only Capitolites get jobs that involve creativity."

"That doesn't stop dad from doing it! And it doesn't stop you from working on your equations n' stuff…" Flick mumbled.

Astron paused, tugging on her chocolate brown hair uncertainly. "Well…that's just for fun."

"So is playing piano." Flick pointed out.

"Well, I'm just saying that you're going to have to get a real job someday."

"I'll probably end up getting reaped anyways."

"Flick!" Astron said shrilly, looking upset, "Don't say stuff like that!"

Flick's chocolate brown eyes widened defensively. "Well, it's true. That's what Gettys said, she sees the future—"

"I don't want to hear about your weird little club!" Astron snapped.

Flick shrugged a shoulder, tuning her out as she launched into one of her rants. He knew she wasn't a fan of his friends. Okay, maybe they were sort of strange, but that's why he fit in with them.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Without realizing it, Flick had started to tap out a new rhythm against his leg, as if he were composing a song. His sister knew that this was the telltale sign that he was becoming bored with the conversation. She sighed and decided to let him off.

"Just go get ready or we'll be late." She scowled.

"Okay." Flick gratefully escaped into his room. It was a tiny little place with paint peeling off the walls, but he immediately felt calm as he entered it. Even though the messy pile of papers on his desk tempted him to start writing music, he forced himself to get changed. He knew in a few minutes, Astron would be back to check on him.

Sure enough, she came by with their father, Andrae, in tow. His beady eyes appeared to be drooping behind his little pair of glasses, as if he had just woken up from a nap. It was tough being a single dad.

The three of them embarked on the short trip to the Reaping. Flick's mind ranged all over the place, his hand tapping out a new rhythm all the while. He had just thought up a really cool melody—he wished he could have stayed home and written it out, but that would have to wait. He tried to maintain his thought as they signed in, but it quickly became lost in a jumble of other thoughts. He sighed inwardly.

At that moment, he caught sight of his three friends: Gettys, Minue, and Breaka. He darted off to talk to him, but something held him back. It was Astron.

"Flick, can't you stay with me today? It my last Reaping and I'd like my little brother here." She tried to speak gently, but she could already see the three girls approaching.

"Hello, Flicka." Gettys greeted in a dreamy voice. Her eyes had a slight glaze and she gazed past the two of them.

Astron glared at the three girls. Although they weren't related, they were practically clones of one another, with flat brown hair and slanted noses. "His name is _Flick_." She said in an unfriendly voice. "Flick, tell them to leave you alone."

"Would you like to come chat with us?" Minue invited cordially, taking Flick's hand and leading him off. He didn't offer any resistance.

Astron just rolled her eyes and let him go. Flick still couldn't understand why she didn't like his friends. They were nice once you got to know them.

"Yet another Reaping," Breaka lamented, once they had gathered, "I wonder who will die this year?"

"Death is just apart of life." Gettys sighed dramatically. She looked at Flick out of the corner of her eye.

Flick just listened and nodded. If these three girls had taught him anything, it was that death was nothing to fear. According to them, it was like falling into a deep sleep. Gettys had once claimed that she had died for a few minutes and came back, but then again, she was always weaving ridiculous fabrications. Flick couldn't help have his doubts about what lay beyond their world.

He perked up as the announcer called everyone to gather in front of the stage.

"Farewell, Flicka." His friends called, departing for the female side.

He raised his hand and gave them an awkward wave. "Farewell…"

* * *

From her room, Thimble could smell all sorts of enticing scents wafting in from their tiny kitchen. It was overlaid with the usual stink of industrial fumes, but her nose had grown accustomed to this over the years. It was just part of living in District 8.

"Hey!"

Thimble gave a start as one of her brothers, Thredger, came barging into the room. "Ever hear of knocking?" She said irritably.

"…Aren't you going to get ready for the Reaping?" He asked, looking her up and down.

"I _am _ready." Thimble said, crossing her arms as if to stop him from looking at her baggy clothing. With four older brothers, her dresser was full of hand-me-downs. She didn't own a single dress. _At least you don't have to share a room. _She reminded herself, feeling a bit better at this thought.

"If you're ready, then you should go help Mom in the kitchen." Thredger told her, "Embros and Spoolton don't know what the heck they're doing and Stitchell nearly set the place on fire." He grinned as if the idea of their tiny house burning down had hilarious implications.

"I don't feel like it." Thimble said miserably, "I don't see why Reaping day is something to celebrate."

"Aw, come on!" Thredger rolled his eyes, sitting down next to his sister on her bed, "We're not celebrating Reaping day, we're celebrating the fact that Spoolton's just about done. After today, he won't be eligible for the Games anymore!"

"Well what if he winds up getting reaped?" Thimble scoffed. She knew she was being difficult. But she certainly didn't feel like immersing herself in a party atmosphere when the Reaping was fast approaching.

"Then more food for us!" Thredger joked.

"You're not funny." Thimble growled, but she couldn't stop a small smile from spreading across her face.

"Now, come on! We're a tight knit family, and that means _all _of us have to help with party prep!" He said, rising to his feet, a dumb grin on his face. "Heh. Tight knit. District 8 humor."

Thimble gave her brother a playful shove and the two headed to the kitchen together. Already, it was crammed with 6 other people, hurriedly making preparations. Embros, Thimble's oldest brother, and his pregnant wife were putting up decorations. Spoolton had an overexcited grin on his face at the prospect of his party. Stitchell, only a year behind Spoolton, was yammering about what food he wanted served at his own bash.

"Thimble!" Their father brightened at the sight of his only daughter and he moved forward to hug her. "You're looking very pretty."

"I look the same as I always do, Dad." Thimble mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

"And you always look pretty." He reminded her gently.

"Um, dear? The food?" Thimble's mother was trying to juggle all of the tasks that needed getting done. "The bread still needs to bake, the soup needs stirring, the chicken needs to be cut—"

"I'll stir the soup, Mom!" Thimble said quickly, jumping in to take over.

Her mother couldn't have looked more relieved. "Thank you, darling."

They spent what time they had left trying to get everything in the oven. Thimble accidentally spilled some soup on her shirt, but by that time, they were already running late. They had to rush out the door and to the Reaping, hurriedly tucking in their shirts and adjusting their ties as they went.

Luckily, the Reaping hadn't started and there was still a long line to sign in. Their clock had just been fast. "I'm so sorry!" Thimble's mother kept apologizing, "I kept meaning to fix that, but I just forgot…!" She raked her hands through her hair, trying to fix her appearance. Thimble didn't think it made much of a difference. She always looked beautiful.

After some quick goodbyes, Spoolton, Stitchell, and Thredger ran off to sign in with the boys. Thimble was left to herself. But as she approached the girls' line, she caught sight of a familiar face. Before the poor girl could run for cover, Lacy Button had already turned around, along with her posse of brats. Her red lips curled into a sneer.

"If it isn't Pimplelina," She said snootily. Her cronies laughed on cue.

Thimble's hands balled into fists at her sides. She could feel her face turning red with anger. Lacy seemed bent on never letting Thimble forget that everything about her was ugly. From her choppy auburn haircut to her snub nose. But more than anything, they loved poking fun at her less than flawless complexion, twisting her name from Thimblelina to Pimplelina.

"What is _that_?" Lacy gasped, pointing at the soup stain on her shirt, "You _do _realize this is going to be broadcast all over Panem, right?"

"No freaking way!" Thimble burst out, "Thanks for the input, Captain Obvious!" _Great. Now I've opened myself up for more of their crap. _She knew only her fists would shut Lacy up. But the last time she had tried that, she had been sent home from school with a note. Her mother had been so upset with her.

Lacy pretended to look hurt. "I'm sorry. I was just checking to make sure…but if you want to dress like a slob, that's totally fine. After all, it makes me look better." She proceeded to fluff up her hair, giggling as she did so.

Thimble wanted to spit on her. "Y'know, Lacy, if you weren't so rich, you wouldn't even have any friends." She hissed, her voice laced with venom, "How much do you pay your lackeys to hang around?"

"More than your parents make in a year!" Lacy retaliated instantly, glaring fiercely at Thimble.

Suddenly, Thimble didn't care if her mother would be angry with her or not. She prepared to leap at Lacy and rip apart her pretty pink dress. Before she could, a large figure shouldered in between them. The fight drained out of her immediately.

"Loom…" Thimble said, breathing a sigh of relief.

Loom was her best friend, a silent loner who was quite large for his age. He cast an intimidating glance towards Lacy and she shrunk away in fear. She and her posse turned back around, whispering and casting hateful glances back at Thimble. She ignored them, grateful for the quiet company of her only friend.

"Did you already sign in?" She asked quietly, as the attendants took a sample of her blood.

Loom nodded. Before they could separate, he reached out and caught her shoulder. "Remember what I said?" He reminded her, "At the last Reaping?"

Thimble nodded. The same scene had played out at last year's Reaping, at her very first one. Although she was used to being bullied by Lacy, she had broken down and cried in front of everyone. She had blamed it on stress at the time. But Loom had taken her aside and told her something she would never forget.

"As long as I'm confident with myself it doesn't matter what people think of me." She said firmly, the words filling her with warmth.

"That's right. You know who you are." Loom murmured, looking satisfied. "…See you later, Thimble."

"See you." She said in a faint voice, watching him lope off towards the boys' side. She took her place in the 13-year old section, placing herself as far from Lacy as possible. As the Reaping began, she closed her eyes and clung to Loom's words.

She tried to appear brave as the escort announced it was time to select the tributes. But on the inside, she felt paralyzed with fear; for herself and for her brothers. She prayed that every family member would be able to attend Spoolton's celebration…but it was not meant to be.

"Thimblelina Paylor." The escort declared.

That name felt like a blow to the gut. Thimble stood frozen, trying to remember how to breathe.

"Pimplelinaaa…" A taunting voice sounded from further back, but Thimble couldn't bring herself to react.

Only when a Peacekeeper grabbed her did she give a great gasp and start breathing again. But her breath came in short bursts and she was close to hyperventilating. She went limp in their arms as they brought her up to the stage.

Somehow, she was able to stand by herself. She stared at the crowd, unmoving, silent tears rolling down her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look at the faces of her loved ones.

They would have to hold Spoolton's celebration without her.

* * *

Flick felt a bit shocked that someone his own age had been reaped. He recognized her too—she was an assertive little girl who had once threatened to punch Minue's face in. His friend had made an innocent comment on Thimble's attire that definitely didn't deserve such a heated reaction. Now, at the sight of tears on her face, he shifted uncomfortably where he stood. He didn't like watching the reactions of the reaped.

"Flick Fawley."

Flick's eyes widened quite suddenly. _Well…that was unexpected, _he thought as his finger sought to tap out a new rhythm on his thigh. He slowly stepped out of the crowd, focusing on the beat to keep himself calm.

"FLICK!" Astron's strangled cry pierced the air.

Flick flinched at her voice and stopped where he was. Peacekeepers snatched him up and dragged him the rest of the way to the stage. He looked over his shoulder to see his sister tearing herself from the crowd.

"NO! You can't take him! He's only 13! _Flick!_" A Peacekeeper tried to gently coax her back into line, but she lashed out at him, pummeling him with her fists. Curses tore from her throat while the sheepish Peacekeeper ducked her blows. Another one rushed over to help and the two got a firm hold on her. She struggled wildly to reach her brother, still screaming his name over and over.

Up on stage, Flick pursed his lips and began whistling a tune under his breath. He closed his eyes and focused on the music, trying to drown out the sounds of his sister being contained.

The escort cleared her throat and announced in a loud voice, "Will our two young tributes please shake hands?"

Thimble glared at Flick, unwilling to shake his head. She wasn't a fan of him or his strange little group of freaks that roamed the halls at school. Since she was rather antisocial, one of his friends had invited her to join their group, but she had vehemently denied their request. Then the girl had said something along the lines of, "you'll fit right in with your outlandish style." Ever since, she hadn't been a big fan.

But she couldn't help but feel a bit of respect towards his sister. She obviously loved her brother—and she had been a good distraction that helped Thimble dry her tears. So she gripped her fellow tribute's hand and shook it.

As they broke apart, she noted with some amusement that Flick looked as if he had stuck his finger in a light socket. His brown hair stuck up in clumps, suiting his eccentric personality. Freckles covered every inch of his body and his large brown eyes were completely devastated. Thimble couldn't help but feel a bit depressed just looking at him.

Kids as young as they were hardly ever won the Hunger Games. As far as she was concerned, both of them would be dead within the month.


	6. District Reapings 9 and 10

**My sister and I did a story flip-flop because both of us are burning out. I wrote a few pages of Bomber tag in Masquerade in exchange for her writing Rowan's Reaping. And she did a great job with it! So if you have any praise for that part of the chapter, direct it at her!  
**

**BTW I've been planning ahead in the story and I sorted out the chariot outfits. At the moment, Districts 5, 6, and 12 will be going out there naked because their creators gave me nothing. Don't worry; you guys have plenty of time to come up with something. If you don't, I'm opening the floor for other people's ideas, but for the time being you still have dibs.**

**District 9**

Rowan made a neat, horizontal slice with his kama, cutting down a generous bunch of flax with it. He had handmade the farming tool himself, under his father's careful instruction, and always felt a small sense of pride when he used it. He took another swipe, and another, and another, swinging the sharp, tapered blade across his body in a learned rhythm. After he had reaped a large section of the plants, he collected them into a bundle and dumped them into his old wagon. And then he went back to cut some more.

That was what he'd do the rest of his life. Cut flax. Eat. Sleep. Go to School. Cut flax. Repeat. His future was looking pretty bleak.

"Boo!" someone squealed behind him suddenly. In a knee-jerk reaction, he whipped around and swung his sickle at the intruder. They let out high-pitched shriek, flailing backwards.

"Dammit, Maci!" Rowan snapped, throwing his kama down. His 14-year-old sister sat sprawled on the ground in front of him, her tangled blonde hair askew. "Don't surprise me like that! What's wrong with you?!"

"What's wrong with _you?_" she retorted. She climbed to her feet, brushing pieces of grass off her shirt. "Jeez, what'd you think I was? A rabid animal or a Peacekeeper or something?"

"I don't know!" He felt a bout of anger flare up inside him, mostly because he was just horrified that he narrowly missed severing his sister's head. Just a few more inches and…no. He couldn't think about that.

Maci rolled her eyes. "Well, mom said it's time to get ready for the reaping soon, so you should start heading back."

Rowan let out a long groan. He picked his kama up off the ground and tossed it into the wagon. "What's the difference? We're all going to die one day anyway."

Maci just gave a little shrug and started back across the field. For a few seconds Rowan stood there and watched her go, squinting his dark blue eyes tight to block out the morning sun that was rising over their house. Then, with his strong, lean arms he hoisted the wagon's heavy handle over his shoulder and started dragging his load back across the field.

When he made it to the barn he found his father Benner inside, bent over his kama worktable as usual. He didn't appear to have noticed Rowan enter, his tired, unfocused eyes straining to concentrate on a nail he was hammering down. Rowan wheeled his wagonload of flax to the corner of the room. Soon, the plants he had harvested would be shipped off to District 8 to help make linen. That had been their family's livelihood ever since his father had busted his butt to get their farm up and running. It wasn't much, but it kept food on their table.

There was a time when they were so dirt poor they had to kill and sell the family goat, Elm, once she stopped giving milk. Rowan had begged his parents not to do it, asking them to let him put in tesserae instead, but they would hear nothing of it. His dad had done away with their beloved pet out of Rowan's sight, but he had heard the horrible bleating that erupted from Elm's mouth as she was slaughtered.

That was nine years ago, but the goat's sickening scream still haunted him to this day. Rowan shut his eyes, trying to push the upsetting memory back into the recesses of his mind.

"Oh, hello Rowan. I didn't see you come in," his father greeted him finally, offering a hollow smile that Rowan did not return. His features became lined with concern. "Is everything all right?"

"What do you think?!" Rowan immediately felt bad for snapping at his father, but acknowledging that with an apology would just make the angry knot in his chest tighter.

"Reaping got you down?"

Rowan averted his eyes and gave a small nod.

Benner let out a heavy sigh. He walked to Rowan's side and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry, son. Just two more and you'll be ineligible," he forced another smile, premature wrinkles creasing his face. "You're almost done."

"Don't let the Reaping get you down!" sang a cute voice. Maci came skipping through the barn doors, all trace of their earlier mishap gone from her attitude. "Don't let the Peacekeepers turn your smile in-to-a-frown!"

Rowan just stared at her blankly as she bounced over to him and pulled him into a one-armed hug, swaying him back and forth in rhythm. "Don't let the reaping get you down, Rowaaan!"

Rowan shot her an icy glare that silenced her. She released him immediately.

Just then, their mother Amber strolled into the barn with a tray containing four teacups, her blonde hair tied back under a bandana. She and Maci looked like older and younger versions of each other. "Anyone want some tea?" she asked, offering the tray to each family member in turn. "I picked the herbs fresh from the garden this morning."

Rowan took one of the cups and held it up close to his face, breathing the calming aroma in through his nose. It was chamomile, his favorite. The tea was so refreshing and delicious he downed it in no time at all.

"Thanks, mom," he said once he had finished. "That hit the spot."

"You're welcome, hon," she said, giving him a warm smile. "Now, go put your dishes away and get ready! We're already running behind."

Rowan walked back to the house, cleaned and put away the teacup, and went to his small room to change his clothes. He exchanged his grubby old undershirt with a clean-pressed button-down, but didn't bother changing out of his work jeans. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, using the sweat that had collected in it to style it into spikes, but he still looked like crap. Oh well. He seemed to care less and less about how he presented himself at the reaping each year.

His mother made a sour face at him when he walked into the living room. "You're going to the reaping in _those_ jeans?"

"Yup."

She sighed, shaking her head disapprovingly, but didn't comment any further on the matter. "Where's your sister?" she asked, casting an antsy look at the clock on the wall.

"I'm ready!" Maci came down the steps wearing a blue flannel shirt and matching skirt. "How do I look mom?" she asked, tossing her hair back.

"Fine, fine. Now c'mon, let's get going," she said hastily, ushering Maci out the door without really looking at her outfit.

Rowan started to follow them, but then he spotted their cat curled up on top of the sofa. "Bye, Hickory," he said quietly, running a hand over the cat's dusty brown fur. Hickory tilted his head toward him ever so slightly and gave him a bored stare, his green eyes narrowed into two grumpy slits.

"Yeah. You and me both," Rowan grumbled.

"_Rowan!_" His mother called from outside.

"Coming," he said reluctantly. He headed out after his family, shutting the door firmly behind him.

* * *

Aluma was a simple-looking girl, a little on the short side with shoulder-length strawberry-blonde hair. She had a cute, small nose with a sprinkling of freckles, and fairly tanned skin. But no one cared what she looked like.

Why should anything else matter when you had an eye completely covered in scar tissue? She hated all of the questions and sympathy that came her way every day of her life. "How did it happen?" "I'm so sorry!" Tch. It's easy to say sorry and not mean it. If anyone showed this sort of concern when she was bedridden and helped pay for the medical care, she would be able to see out of her right eye.

But she had grown used to it anyways. She had friends and a family…a family that was going to be late for the Reaping if they didn't get their butt in gear.

"Come _on_, Barley." Aluma growled, fidgeting restlessly by the front door, "What is that, your third breakfast this morning? We have to get going!"

He shot a lazy smile towards his sister. "Chill," He mumbled, "Mom and Dad aren't even ready yet."

"Don't tell me to 'chill,'" Aluma growled, biting her lip. By the idiotic grin on his face, she could tell her brother had been sniffing glue again. Their house didn't contain any bottles of the sticky stuff, but she had her suspicions that he was finding it in other places such as bookbinding.

"Well…" He said in a thick voice, stuffing a fistful of bread into his mouth, "Someone in this family's gotta chill. Guess it's gonna be-"

"You shouldn't even be here!" Aluma snapped, bunching her fists, "You're twenty, for crying out loud. Go get a freaking job!"

Barley just looked at her and laughed as if she had uttered some hysterical joke. She glared at him, feeling hatred burn in the pit of her stomach. She despised her brother. He, who had never taken any tesserae, never worked a day in his life, and didn't know what it was like to suffer through pain. It wasn't _fair_.

She raised her hand to smack him across the face, but then her parents walked in. "Are you fighting again?" Her mother asked, looking disappointed, "We can hear you from the other end of the house."

"Which isn't that impressive since our house is comprised of a few tiny rooms!" Her father chuckled.

"Omri…" Aluma's mother, Zea, shot him a look. Her eyes were wide and defensive, but her husband didn't seem to notice.

He moved forward to hoist Barley out of his seat. "C'mon, son, it's time to go."

"Right," Barley grunted, wiping his mouth, "Good breakfast, Ma."

Aluma rolled her eyes. "You mean breakfasts. You ate more than enough."

Omri and Barley just laughed again. Aluma held her tongue, wishing that her parents could see her brother for what he was.

The four of them walked to the Reaping. Aluma remained awkwardly silent—the only member of her family she felt comfortable talking to was her father, but she didn't want to make conversation with Barley and Zea listening in. She wasn't a big fan of her insecure mother. Always hunting for praise, her mother had once asked her, "Aluma, who do you like better? Mommy or Daddy?"

Instantly, she had answered, "Dad." _Duh. _Her dad was awesome. But her relationship with her mother had been rocky ever since. It kind of ticked her off. Zea should have been proud of her daughter for being so truthful and should have worked harder to become a better parent.

Oh well.

As soon as they joined the crowd that had gathered for the Reaping, Aluma excitedly turned to her father and asked if she could go find her friends.

"Of course. See you later, honey." He said, smiling. Aluma turned to dart off, but then a hand caught her arm, pulling her back. She looked up at her father curiously. "Just stay out of trouble." He said with a wink.

She grinned innocently. "I'm not promising anything." He let her go and she hurried off to locate each of her friends. She found Rye and Goren surrounded by a group of their male friends. Rye was telling jokes while Goren eyed up the nearest female specimen…the usual.

Aluma easily shoved her way out of the crowd. Usually, kids cleared the area when they saw her coming. If they didn't, then they got to be knocked over.

"Aluma!" Rye said happily, going to meet her, "What took you so long?"

"It's my stupid, lazy brother's fault!" She said defensively.

"Well, if you were hoping to pull off some hair-brained scheme, I think you're a little late today." Rye said ruefully.

Goren sidled over, looking around. Aluma noted with relief that he didn't have a girl plastered to his side, for once. "Where's Aviva?" He wondered.

"I'll find her!" Aluma declared, turning and running off. Rye and Goren struggled to keep up. They found their fourth friend waiting in line to sign in. A boy was talking to her and she looked rather uncomfortable. Aviva was quite pretty. Boys hit on her a lot, but she was shy and didn't have any desire to start dating at such a young age.

The three friends seemed to realize what was happening at the same time. They swarmed around their friend, cutting off the boy that had been flirting with her. She smiled gratefully as Aluma greeted her quite loudly.

"Thank you." She mouthed.

"You're welcome." Aluma said, not caring that the boy still stood a few feet behind her, "We couldn't let you suffer."

"Aw, c'mon. Can you blame the poor guy?" Goren joked, pulling a pouty face, "You're so cruel, Aviva!"

She giggled and gave him a light slap on the shoulder.

At that moment, something compelled Aluma to look away from her friends and catch the eye of someone who had been staring at her. The little girl looked away instantly. Aluma glowered at her, refusing to remove her gaze. The girl cast her a few nervous glances, looking extremely afraid.

Aluma stepped out of line and stalked over to her. "Hey! Where you goin'?" Rye shouted after her.

"What?" She spat, shoving her face directly in front of the little girl's, "You never seen Keratoconjunctivitis before? Well, here! Get a good look!" She closed her good, brown eye, and tilted her head to the left.

The little girl whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to see the infected eye. Tears leaked out from underneath her eyelids. Suddenly, something grabbed ahold of Aluma and began dragging her backwards. It was Rye and Goren.

"C'mon, she's only twelve…" Rye muttered, "What were you thinking?"

"Sorry about that!" Goren said, flashing an apologetic smile at Aluma's victim, "She's just joking around."

Regret crashed over Aluma like a wave. "Sorry," She muttered, "I'm just so…sick of it."

"We understand." Aviva offered kindly.

"No you don't!" Aluma said furiously, shaking her head, "So don't pretend like you do. I see the way you look at me, Aviva."

Her friend flinched as though Aluma had struck her. "I'm sorry." She whispered, her pretty face full of despair.

Aluma felt a sharp pang of envy. "Don't be." She grumbled, "Just…stop talking about it."

She remained silent until the Reaping, as did her friends. When she had signed in, she turned and walked quickly away to the section reserved for 14-year olds, ignoring every stare that came her way.

* * *

After they arrived at District 9's Justice building and signed in, Maci flounced off to the 14-year-old section and Rowan headed toward the 17-year-old section. He scanned the tops of peoples' heads, searching for the auburn one that belonged to his best friend Ruse. It wasn't long before he spotted him lurking on the outskirts of the crowd.

Ruse was the only person in the world Rowan considered a friend, and Rowan was Ruse's only friend. Or at least he was pretty sure. It was just hard to imagine Ruse having actual friends.

Ruse was…_that_ kid, to say the least. Asking the teacher awkward, off-topic questions, pretending to be sick to get out of class, and lying just for the hell of lying. They first met way back in 4th grade. Rowan's frequent temper tantrums often made him a prime target for bullying in those days, but quiet little Ruse never judged him, not even the time the teacher had to physically pry him off a desk and carry him to the principal's office. Rowan avoided other kids for fear of being bullied, and Ruse was avoided by the other kids for being…well, Ruse. Needless to say, as the two most socially inept children in their 4th grade class, they were naturally drawn to each other.

"Hi Ruse," Rowan said, walking up to stand beside his friend. Ruse turned his head toward him silently and peered at him through the curtain of reddish-brown bangs that constantly hung in his face. There were eyes in there somewhere, staring at him. After a few awkward seconds, he turned back toward the Reaping stage and simply replied, "Hey."

"Hey homos!" someone sniggered close behind them. Rowan knew the voice. It was Hirott Delanoy. He spun around, glaring daggers at his old bully. Hirott's usual smarmy look was planted on his face, his stringy black hair greased up special for the reaping. His hairy chest hung out of his unbuttoned shirt for the world to see.

"Hey yourself," Ruse said in a fake seductive voice. He looked Hirott up and down slowly, making a point to lick his lips. "Lookin' _foxy _today, man."

Rowan had to stifle a laugh when he saw the horrified look on Hirott's face.

"What's so funny, Claibee?!" Hirott snapped, turning to glower at Rowan.

Before Rowan could come up with a snide comeback, Ruse intervened again. He was shameless.

"Oh! It's because you're just so cute when you're angry…" he purred.

Hirott had had enough of it. He lunged toward them threateningly. Rowan tensed his muscles pulled his arm back to meet him with a punch in the face.

"Break it up!" a couple peacekeepers rushed over and put themselves between Rowan and Hirott.

"We're not fighting," Ruse lied calmly. He leaned over and pet Hirott on the head, much to the latter's disgust. "I just wanted to know what kind of hair products— "

"I know a fight about to break out when I see one!" interrupted one of the Peacekeepers. "Now c'mon, move along! Move it!"

The Peacekeepers escorted Ruse and Rowan to the opposite side of the seventeen-year-old section from Hirott, shoving them back into a corner.

"What the hell, Ruse!" Rowan said after the Peacekeepers left. "You trying to get yourself killed?"

Ruse just uttered a creepy little laugh in response.

Rowan shook his head, unable to stop a smirk from spreading across his lips. "That was pretty funny, though."

Ruse shrugged. "Eh, it was nothing."

"How do you pull this crap out of your-"

"You just have to play along with them. Or ignore them," Ruse said, having one of his odd moments of wisdom. "Don't get angry; that's what he wants. He's just trying to get a negative reaction out of you."

Rowan knew that. Both Ruse and his parents must have told him that a thousand times, but he couldn't help flaring up at his enemies. Since elementary school he had improved at controlling his temper, but his go-to way of coping with people like Hirott was still to sock them in the face.

An irritating tapping sound drew their attention back to the stage. The escort was up front, trying to get the microphone to work. Once she started to address the crowd, the preliminary rituals slogged by as usual. Eventually, the escort moved to reaping bowl to select the female tribute.

"Aluma Cavendash!" she called out.

* * *

_Huh. I guess that's me. _Aluma thought, unimpressed. Keeping a straight face, she began to walk towards the stage with her head held high. As she trotted down the aisle, she became aware that her shoe was untied.

"Seriously?" She grumbled, bending down to tie it.

Peacekeepers immediately swooped in and got her back on her feet.

"Hold on! At least let me tie my shoe, sheesh!" She snapped. But they pulled her right up to the stage and set her there, where she faced towards the audience.

Every face was filled with pity…either because of her eye or because of the fact that she'd be dead within a week. But that seemed pretty far off so it wasn't too big of a deal at the moment. She was more concerned with her untied shoe, which was really getting on her nerves. She glared at her foot.

"Thank you, Aluma," The escort said, dipping a hand into the other Reaping bowl, "Now, our male tribute for this year is…Rowan Claibee."

* * *

Rowan stiffened up at the sound of his name. He could hear a loud guffaw rise up from the other end of the section—Hirott. It was the only thing that filled the silence. But he couldn't react. He was frozen to the spot. Suddenly, he was aware of a hand on his shoulder.

"Let me volunteer for you." Ruse said blankly, staring at the stage.

"No," Rowan said firmly. He began to move away, but Ruse dug his fingers into his arm, holding on tighter.

"Why not?"

"Don't be an idiot, Ruse!" Rowan hissed, glaring fiercely at his friend, "Just look at you! You wouldn't last a day in the Games. You'd just provoke some Career into killing you! At least I'm somewhat athletic. You…" He trailed off.

Ruse let his hand drop. Rowan searched for some sort of reaction behind his shield of bangs, but he couldn't find one.

Without another word, Rowan turned and made his way up to the stage. As he approached the female tribute, a mixture of disgust and horror washed over him. There was something wrong with her right eye. Something _really _wrong.

The iris appeared to be a black ball with a white ball inside…it was enveloped in scar tissue. And the sclera was completely covered in a disturbing amount of little red veins that resembled trails of blood. Rowan had to avert his gaze as he shook her hand.

She tore away from him, almost angrily, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her. He turned to face the crowd, trying to find Ruse among the masses. He wondered what was going through his friend's head. But one thing was for sure: he was crazy if he thought he could survive the Hunger Games.

_I'm sorry, Ruse. But it was the right decision. You'll thank me for it later. You'll see._

**District 10**

Claire paced back and forth, nervously combing her hands through her bushy mane of dark brown hair. She kept casting quick glances at the clock on the wall, but time seemed to be passing mind-numbingly slow.

"How can it already be midnight…?" Claire muttered, feeling a migraine coming on, "She was supposed to be home _six_ hours ago…"

Just then, the front door clicked open and her 15-year old sister Demi came walking in, twirling her key. Fuming, Claire crossed her arms and glared accusingly at her sister. Demi cast her a nonchalant glance and turned to head towards the stairs.

"And just _where_ have you been?!" She snapped ferociously, blocking her path. She reached forward and tore the key from her sister's grasp, looking furiously at her choppy new haircut. "And what have you done to your hair?!"

"I told you, I went out with friends." Demi rolled her eyes.

"You said you'd be home in time for dinner! That was at six!"

"Well excuse me, _Mother,_" She hissed, "I guess I just lost track of time."

Claire tried not to show any reaction to Demi's jab. "Well, I hope you don't mind going to bed hungry, because we didn't save anything for you. And just so you know, Noah was worried about you _all _night. The poor thing couldn't even get to sleep for a few hours. Just wait until Dad comes home after the night shift and I tell him what you did."

"He'll be too tired to care." Demi scoffed, trying to force her way past Claire.

As short as she was, Claire held her ground. "Next time you're going to stay out that late, at least let me know!"

"Give me one good reason why I should!" Demi challenged, looking her sister straight in the eye.

"Because I said so!"

"Oh yeah! I forgot I was living in a family dictatorship!" She surged forward, shoving past Claire and making her way up the stairs.

Claire stomped after her, unwilling to let her escape so easily without reprimanding. "You get back here!" She said, her voice rising, "I'm not through with you!"

"Well I'm through with you!" Demi whipped around, glaring at her older sister, "I deal with this crap every single day! Why don't you stop trying to be such an overbearing know-it-all for once in your life and just let me live mine?! Oh wait! You can't!"

Claire grabbed Demi's arm and dragged her back, shaking her. "How dare you speak that way to me? After all I've done for you!"

Demi easily tore away and trudged into her room, slamming the door with a bang. "I hate you!" She shrieked in a shrill voice, "You think you can replace Mom, but you can't!"

"The feeling is mutual!" Claire returned, her voice faltering just a bit.

"I hope you're reaped for the Hunger Games tomorrow!"

Claire opened her mouth for a comeback, but her throat burned with rage and grief. She couldn't find the words to express it. She heard a soft moan from behind and she looked to see Noah standing in the doorway to his bedroom, rubbing his eyes.

"You woke me up." He mumbled. "Is Demi back?"

"Oh Noah, I'm so sorry!" Claire apologized, hurrying towards her 10-year old brother. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and guided him back to his bed, "Here, just go to sleep. Daddy will be home in a few hours."

He climbed under the covers, blinking sleepily. "Is it my fault you're arguing?"

"No, no, of course not." Claire said in a hushed voice, "Just go to sleep."

"I didn't mean to kill Mom…!" Noah said miserably, his eyes becoming shiny with tears.

"Don't say such things!" Claire said, giving him a small cuff on the shoulder, "Just go to sleep. Daddy will be home in a few hours."

Noah closed his eyes and gave a soft, sad sigh. "Demi told me that she wishes she could remember Mom. I think she's mad at you for being older than her."

Claire lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "Oh…I see." She knew her sister had many more reasons to be mad at her, as demonstrated a few minutes ago. At least she didn't take out her frustrations on Noah—he couldn't help it that their mother had died giving birth to him.

"Good night." Noah murmured quietly.

Claire gave him a soft pat on the head. "Good night." She echoed, silently getting up from the bed and leaving her little brother to his dreams.

* * *

In a dark corner of the market, Buck repeatedly shuffled and reshuffled his three cards. Through a curtain of shaggy brown hair, he watched the world go by. People milled about, their bodies one big writhing mass of flesh as they struggled to find a good deal. Rickety stands formed aisles that stretched in every direction. The stench of rotting meat clung to the walls. This place had been a meatpacking plant before it became a market. The stench was ingrained into it and would be forevermore.

Really, it wasn't that bad. This part of District 10, known as the Tenderloin, was filled with slaughterhouses and packing plants. Eventually, you got used to the putrid stench. You learned to accept the fact that you were born _here_ instead of a wide, open pasture with cows grazing peacefully.

Buck perked up at the sight of a group of Peacekeepers forcing their way through the crowd. A sly smile worked its way across his face. He knew these guys. Unlike other Peacekeepers, they overlooked most illegal activities, and even willingly participated in them.

"Howdy!" Buck greeted, as they approached his secluded space, "Been wonderin' bout you fellas all day. Where you been?"

"Hey Buck. Just…Reaping stuff…" One hiccupped, eyeing the cards in Buck's hand.

"We're on break." Another spoke up.

"Sounds like you been havin' yourselves a good time." Buck said slyly. It wasn't hard to guess that they had already gone to his brother Ram's stand, where he brewed moonshine. This was routine—whenever the Peacekeepers had gotten their fill, he would send them over here to gamble. Worked like a charm every time. "Anyways, I've got a new game for you fellas to try. Wanna give it a go?"

"I've seen this crap before!" One of the Peacekeepers bellowed, slapping his hand down on the rickety table without warning, "You hide the cards up your sleeves and scam us."

Buck's brown eyes widened innocently. "Me? Scam _you_? And here I thought ya'll were my friends…I ain't even wearin' sleeves." He shook his head regretfully.

Despite his act, the Peacekeepers still looked annoyed. "Even so," The only sober one of the bunch said, "We lost a lot of money in your last game. _I ain't playin'_." He turned to leave, his buddies snickering.

Buck glared at his back, unappreciative of his accent being mocked. At that moment, a pretty girl with her hair in a high ponytail materialized from the throng of people.

"Can I play?" She asked, her eyes glittering with excitement, "I love games of chance!"

Buck smirked. "Well c'mon over, little lady. I'll explain the rules."

"Miss, you shouldn't associate with him unless you want to lose all of your savings." The sober Peacekeeper said irritably.

"Don't be such a killjoy, Axel," Buck said, giving the sober Peacekeeper a withering look, "I reckon she should be able to play if she wants to."

The girl sat down in a seat across from Buck, grinning. The Peacekeepers gathered around, despite everything Axel had said. They watched with wide eyes as Buck explained the rules of the game. It was quite simple, really. He had one red heart and two black spades. The person playing had to keep an eye on the red one as he shuffled them around. If they got it right, they earned some prize money. If not, Buck reaped the rewards.

Buck flashed a smile at his lady customer and she held back a giggle. He began shuffling the cars at a slow pace. One of the Peacekeepers—a younger man named Magus—snickered something about the game being incredibly easy.

"I can't watch this," Axel scoffed, "You guys can blow your money. I'm outta here." He turned and strode away.

"Mr. Do-Gooder needs to let loose once in a while," Buck chatted, laying the cards out on the table, "Okay, Ponytail. Pick yer poison."

She immediately pointed to the card on the left. The three remaining Peacekeepers started to make a great fuss, exclaiming that it was the wrong card. The one in the middle was the correct card! Buck ignored them, flipping over the girl's selection.

"Sorry," He said curtly, "better luck next time."

"It's the one in the middle!" Magus snapped, snatching the card and flipping it over. Sure enough, it was the red heart.

Buck's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Well I'll be! You're purdy good at this game."

Magus thrust his chest out with pride. "Maybe I'll give it a go." He looked to his buddies for confirmation, but the young girl spoke up first.

"Yeah, you should!" She beamed, offering her seat to the young man, "I got dizzy just watching, but I'm sure you could do a lot better than I did."

Sure enough, the Peacekeepers entered the game without abandon. They worked together to pick the correct card every time. For the first few rounds, they were winning. The pony-tailed girl stuck by, rooting them on. Buck's meager supply of money was starting to dwindle. When he realized he was nearly out, it was time to turn the tide of the game.

"What say we make things more interesting?" He said, cocking his head mischievously, "Double or nothing."

"You're a sucker!" Magus laughed drunkenly, "Yeah, let's do it."

This time around, Buck pulled sleight of hand. With quick fingers, he deceived the Peacekeepers into losing track of the red card. He glanced up from his work to see them following the wrong one. It took all of his willpower not to make a nasty remark about their IQ.

"That one." The Peacekeepers decided when he had finished.

He suppressed a smirk and unveiled the card. "Whoops…bad luck!" He sighed, showing them the spade.

"What!" Magus burst out.

"I coulda sworn it was that one…" His buddy mused, scratching his head.

"You're free to try again." Buck offered.

And try again they did. Until Buck had won back all of his money and more. The frustrated Peacekeepers began to grow angry, and just when they seemed ready to blow, the Head Peacekeeper himself appeared at the entrance to the market.

"Get to the Reaping, you lazy filth!" He roared after spying them in the corner, gambling. "That means all of you! Remember, everyone has to attend!" Then he left as quickly as he had come.

The remaining Peacekeepers rushed after him. Magus hesitated, looking torn. "Shoot!" He let out a stream of curses, "Well, I'll win it back another time. Ya hear?"

"Oh, I hear." Buck snickered, counting the money.

Magus ran off as the young girl approached Buck, eyeing the cash.

"Much obliged, Pickett," He said, handing her a small wad, "I couldn'ta done it without ya."

Darby Pickett grinned slyly, sorting through the money, "Hmm…is this all?"

"That's the percentage we agreed upon," Buck stated firmly, "Besides, I did all the hard work. You just fawned over Blue-Eyes the entire time,"

Darby rolled her eyes at the reference to Magus. "You just said you couldn't have done it without me!"

"I was just makin' you feel good." Buck said, grinning.

Darby sighed playfully, "I guess I can forgive you," She reached up and pinched his cheek, "How can I not, wiff dose cute wittle dimples? Aww!"

Scowling, Buck shook her off and began walking away.

"Where you goin'?"

"The Reaping. You heard the man."

"Oh, wait for me!"

Darby hustled to keep up with him, chattering about new ways to scam Peacekeepers. As they exited the market, he spotted his older brother Ram talking to a beautiful girl with wavy brown hair and striking blue eyes. He knew that fine figure from a mile away…he was talking to Evangeline Sadler.

Buck felt a flare of jealousy inside of him, blocking out Darby's words and glaring at his brother. Ram _knew _his little brother had had his eye on Evangeline for the longest time. He even told him not to bother, that she was way out of his league. She wouldn't waste the time of day on some sloppy butcher that scammed others in his spare time.

So much for that.

* * *

When they arrived at the Reaping, Demi immediately shot off into the crowd without a word. Claire felt a twinge of annoyance. She was probably off to have more fun with her precious friends. Well, family came first. She looked fondly at her worn-out father and little brother.

"Do you two have a fight or something?" Her dad wondered, watching Demi's retreating figure.

"She's _intolerable_." Claire huffed, "I try to stop her from trashing her morals and this is the thanks I get! She'll regret it later, mark my words."

Her father just nodded, looking rather uninterested. He usually stayed far away from whatever drama his girls were involved in. "Well, we'd better be off. Stay safe, honey." He wrapped her in a strong embrace.

Noah got in on the hug, wondering, "If Demi comes back tonight, can we have a family night?"

Claire felt regret wash over her at this suggestion. Family nights always consisted of a hearty meal and fun little games. They hadn't had one in ages—Claire blamed Demi for it. Still, she tried to smile and nod at her little brother.

Just before she headed off, she glanced Noah up and down one last time and chided, "Tuck your shirt in. You look like you're from the Tenderloin." Then she whipped around and headed off to sign in.

She took her place in the section reserved for her own age, but other teenagers were still frolicking about, shouting loudly and generally being unruly. She just glowered at them silently, impatient for the Reaping to begin. Even when the announcer began his speech, some people were still chatting. Claire blocked them out, focusing on the stage.

They showed the usual propaganda video and then the flashy male escort came gallivanting onto the stage. He made a big show of introducing himself. Claire felt her usual sense of loathing at the sight of him. What a sleaze.

He flounced over to the female Reaping bowl and selected a name. Smiling, he read, "Claire Dillon!"

Panic gripped her like a pair of sharp talons. For a moment, she struggled to breathe, highly aware of the faces turning in her direction. But then she remembered her family—Demi would be happy. She had gotten her wish. And poor little Noah…what would he do without her looking after him?

With a deep breath, she parted herself from the crowd, approaching the stage with her head held high. She would show them she wasn't afraid.

Everything was under control.

* * *

Buck felt a bit relieved that Darby hadn't been reaped. Evangeline, too. Even if she did allow Ram to hit on her.

"Buck McBride."

"Wha…?" Buck breathed, surprised to find that the escort had already drawn a name, "Son of a…!"

But he immediately calmed himself, folding his arms nonchalantly and gazing around, as if he were trying to locate the real Buck. But then Axel appeared before him and grabbed his arm, yanking him out from among the 16-year olds.

Buck resisted. "Just what d'you think yer doin'?!" He demanded furiously, strongly pulling his arm away from the Peacekeeper.

"You were reaped." Axel said in a flat voice, going to grab him again.

Buck leaped backwards, knocking into a few other boys in the process. They recoiled, looking annoyed, but he ignored them. "No I wasn't!" He argued loudly, "I ain't Buck McWhatever! You got the wrong man!"

Axel gave him a withering look as a few more Peacekeepers came to his aid. "You must think I'm stupid."

"He's Buck!" Buck snapped, pointing at a nearby boy.

The fake Buck got a panicked look on his face at the accusation. "N-No I'm not!" He stammered, but the Peacekeepers weren't buying it anyways.

With their combined effort, they were able to subdue him and start dragging him towards the stage. He thrashed in their grip, roaring, "I know how to walk, dammit!" but they were having none of it. They hauled him up the steps and dumped him in front of the escort.

He leaped to his feet instantly, trying to brush himself off and preserve what scraps of dignity he had left.

"Claire and Buck, shake hands!" The escort sang out joyously.

Buck looked up at the female tribute. The first thing he noticed was her dark, mocha-colored skin and her bushy brown hair. She was a great deal shorter than him, wearing a matronly skirt that reached down well past her knees. Her lip was curled with disgust—he disliked her instantly.

When she refused to offer him her hand, he smirked, "What's the matter, Pipsqueak? You got somethin' against yer fellow tribute?"

But she took his hand without a word, meeting his eyes bravely. Then the two of them were led away, refusing to acknowledge the reality that they would both most likely be dead within the next few weeks.

**Don't look up Keratoconjunctivitis! It's awful, just awful… ;_; I felt like crying. Why must such horrible things exist?! Instead, you should look up Buck's sleight of hand because I didn't really rock at describing it. It's really cool (albeit frustrating) to watch.**


	7. District Reapings 11 and 12

**Well, everyone's deaths have pretty much been decided! So that means we have our Bloodbath tributes. It was shaky for a while, but I think it's finally been set in stone. Also, at this rate, we'll make it to the Games before summer...which I don't really want...I gotta try and force myself to slow down. DX  
**

**OH by the way the first poll is finally up. It's the question I always ask early on: Who do you think will win?  
**

**District 11**

No one ever stopped working in District 11. From sunrise to sunset, workers filled every corner of the fields and orchards, hunched over their work. Even on the morning of the Reaping, those without children headed out for another long day. Only those eligible to compete in the Hunger Games and their families would be taking the day off.

Al knew most of District 11's security would be concentrated in town this evening. The Reaping was in less than 24 hours and they had to prepare. The sun was disappearing over the horizon and soon, Al's shift would be over.

He glanced around casually, adjusting his sunglasses that made him feel incognito. No Peacekeepers were in the immediate vicinity. He pulled out a pouch and began stuffing strawberries into it. When it was near to bursting, he smoothed it out and fit it neatly under his shirt. Now he looked like a fat kid.

A whistle blew in the distance, signaling the end of the shift. Al quickly joined the ranks of tired workers that were headed in for the night, securing a safe position in the middle of their crowd. Good thing everyone was too tired to be observant, or else they would've noticed Al had gained twenty pounds in a day.

The 15-year old thief escaped the fields without a hassle. On the way back to his house, which was located in the central market, he didn't pass by a single Peacekeeper. Luck was always on his side.

A beaten-up sign that read "The Curiosity Corner: Open at Sundown" marked where his home was. A smaller one said, "No solicitors." He pushed open the door. A bell rang to announce his arrival.

The front room of the store was piled to the ceiling with all sorts of knickknacks and junk. This and the dim lighting made the shop feel smaller than it really was. But it was easy to navigate, with a path going straight to the front counter where his father Almond Frezno Sr. stood behind a wooden, caged barrier that stretched from wall to wall. He was with a customer at the moment, slightly hunched over and peering at him through a little window in the barrier.

The customer looked rather shady with a bald head and narrowed eyes. He appeared to be trying to strike a bargain with his father. Al could hear a snatch of the conversation as he approached.

"Don't be such a penny-pincher, you miser. I know you sell stolen goods here and I want at least five hundred for this!"

"How about I offer you even less? No one that comes here is going to buy a Peacekeeper gun. Take your stolen goods elsewhere!" Almond Sr. said in a firm voice.

The thief flared up, threatening, "Y'know, I bet the Peacekeepers would love to hear about this shady business you're running!"

"And I bet they'd love to know about a thief who stole a gun from them!" Almond Sr. retaliated, pounding his fist on the counter. "After all, you're worse than I am. I'm a charitable organization that helps people in need! A middleman trying to provide for his customers as well as his family!"

"Fine, fine…" The thief gave in, "Just take it off my hands, will you?"

"Not now. Come back later." Almond Sr. growled.

The thief looked frustrated. "Okay. When?"

"Half past never." With that, he slammed the window shut.

Al watched the exchange with interest, hiding in a shadowed corner. The bald man didn't notice him as he left the shop, grumbling. When he was gone, Al slipped through the backdoor that led to where his father stood, shaking his head. Al's mother Melanie appeared from the back.

"Do you think he'll report us?" She asked her husband worriedly.

"Nah," Almond Sr. said, waving a hand, "If he did, he'd just get _himself _arrested. Our shop has a good repute with this town and our customers would back us up anyways."

"But they don't know everything's stolen." His wife pointed out.

"Exactly." Al interrupted, slapping his pouch of strawberries onto the table, "Either way, Ma, we're still helping people and there's nothin' wrong with that! But most of all, we're helping the Frezno family." He grinned.

"That's right!" Almond Sr. laughed, slapping his son on the back, "And we've made it this far. C'mon, Al, let's get the shop ready for tonight."

"Yes sir!"

Melanie still looked worried, but she began moving their store of food towards the front of the shop for tonight's customers. Al unloaded everything he had stolen that day, feeling a sense of pride as he dumped it on the table. His father was right; they had made it this far. They had been stealing and selling for years, but they had never been caught.

Luck was always on their side.

* * *

Quinoa spent the morning of the Reaping in a duck coop. She scrubbed up their waste and fed them a mixture of cracked corn and birdseed. The ducks would set upon it and scarf up every last bit. Then they would step out of the coop and stretch their wings. Then, altogether, they would take to the sky and fly over the fence in the direction of the rice fields. They loved to swim in the irrigation zones, and they wouldn't eat the rice because it hurt their stomachs. Everything worked out perfectly.

But there was one young duck that had angel wing disease. The poor thing couldn't fly away with his kin so he would follow Quinoa around the entire morning, accompanying her while she gathered eggs and cleaned. He was her favorite. She would never let her father kill the poor creature. After all, he couldn't help that he had been born to a life of entrapment, never being able to go to the other side of a fence.

"Quinoa, let's go!" Her mother called from inside the house.

"Go where?" She wondered.

Her mother poked her head out the door. "The Reaping. Where else?"

"The Reaping's today?!" Quinoa squeaked, suddenly fearful.

Her mother came out of the house and wrapped her arms around her daughter, sighing, "It's okay, honey, everything's going to be fine." She reassured her, but Quinoa knew she was just putting on a brave face.

They entered the house together, leaving the little diseased duck sitting by himself on the porch. Inside, her father and her three brothers were hurrying to get ready. They lived far on the outskirts of the district and would have to catch a train to get to the Reaping. The long ride was always an awful experience, jam-packed into a claustrophobic space with smelly people all around you.

"Oh my goodness, look at the time! We have to go, now!" Her mother cried out, hurrying everyone through the door.

Quinoa glanced down at her muck-stained overalls, but there was nothing she could do about them. She joined her family in a race for the train station. Other families were already there, looking around anxiously. The train was coming down the tracks at a slow rate—from the looks of it, it was already pretty crowded. Quinoa could see no open seats through the window.

When the doors opened, everyone tried to cram themselves inside, struggling to keep their families with them. Quinoa's mother held tight to her daughter's shoulder, trying to drag her inside the train with her, but the writhing bodies around them forced them apart.

"Mom!" Quinoa called, feeling slightly dizzy. A large man shoved her out of the way and she went reeling. She stumbled off the train and landed on the dirty platform. Before she could get up, the doors closed and the train went shooting off without her, completely packed to the brim.

She gave a soft cry of alarm, scrambling to her feet. She tried to chase after the train, but it quickly outdistanced her, becoming a blurry figure on the horizon. She slowed to a halt, biting back tears. She didn't know the way to the Reaping, and with her poor sight, she couldn't hope to get there by herself. She supposed she could follow the tracks, but she would never make it in time.

Her hand flew to her mouth and she began ripping at her nails, something she always did when she was nervous. She walked the long way back to her house, wondering what the Peacekeepers would do to her for missing the Reaping. Were kids ever allowed to miss Reapings? _I__t's not even my fault! _She wailed inwardly.

Quinoa tried opening the front door, but it was locked. So she circled around to the back porch and sat down. There, she tried not to cry. Would they whip her? Would they take it out on her family? Her parents were going to be so upset when they realized she wasn't on that train…

Something nudged her arm and she turned to see her little white duck cocking his head at her. He gave a few short quacks then clambered up on her shoulder to awkwardly perch there. That made her feel a little bit better. She sat there, trying to take deep breaths.

Minutes ticked by. An hour passed. She silently hoped they would just proceed with the Reaping without her. Although she did wish she could have seen who was reaped, she wouldn't be in the dark for too long. Her parents would let her know when they got home. She began to feel calmer as more time passed.

But her small amount of hope was shattered when she heard the sound of an engine. Filled to the brim with fear, she leaped to her feet and darted into the duck coop. She listened intently as the sound of the engine cut off…she could hear men talking. One of them said something about finding her in the house.

There was a loud crash and Quinoa realized that they had broken down their door. She clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to suppress a whimper. She could hear them ransacking the house. _Please stop! _She wanted to scream, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She wondered if she should go to them, but she was paralyzed with fear.

The sounds went on for ten minutes, and then fell silent. She crossed her fingers that the engine would start up again and the men would leave. But suddenly, she found herself looking at one as he peered inside the coop at her.

"Found her!" He called in a gruff voice, "You Quinoa Rheape?"

Her chin trembled. She was too terrified to respond. Grumbling, the Peacekeeper came inside and roughly grabbed her arm, dragging her outside. Her duck leaped off her shoulder, squawking and scattering feathers.

The other Peacekeeper appeared. They got on either side of her; forcing her into the car they had driven here.

"I'm sorry!" She gasped, "I couldn't get onto the train, it was just too crowded! I wasn't trying to hide or anything—"

"Sure looked like you were." The driver grunted.

"No, please-!" Quinoa begged, her eyes filling with tears once more.

"Shut up." The second Peacekeeper snapped, and the poor girl fell silent. She wanted to ask if she was in trouble, but she kept her mouth shut. Wiping at her eyes, she looked back down the road, hoping to catch a glimpse of her house. Instead, she saw her little diseased duck waddling steadily down the road after her.

She watched him until his image blurred with the scenery.

* * *

After cleaning up for the Reaping, and putting on his swanky new bowtie, Al split off from his parents to go hang out with his best friend Beetle. Beetle was lounging around, watching the other kids as they signed in. His little 12-year old sister, Agatha, was with him. This would be her first year to have her name in the Reaping ball.

"Hey man, put a shirt on!" Al shouted as he surprised his friend from behind.

Beetle gave a start, but immediately relaxed when he saw who it was. "Oh, hey, Al. You know the cameras won't focus on me if I don't wear a shirt. Anyways, how's life on the edge? Black market doing all r—"

"Shut it!" Al barked.

Beetle snorted, "Chill, there's no Peacekeepers in hearing range…"

"That's not funny!" Al hissed, feeling extremely annoyed, "You ruin my parents livelihood, you ruin the lives of everyone else! I kid you not—plenty of these folks woulda died from starvation long ago if not for the Curiosity Corner!"

At this, he stood a little taller (which wasn't very tall at all). He was proud to assist them in their endeavors, usually doing most of the stealing. In fact, he had met Beetle Harvey on a stealing spree two years ago.

Al's eyes settled on Beetle's back. It was covered in scars; a reminder of the day they met. He had been taking a gamble by stealing so many ears of corn. But he had assumed the tall stalks would keep him concealed. Unfortunately, a couple of angry Peacekeepers had been tipped off that some punk was trying to make a getaway. They came crashing through the field, trampling the plants as they went.

Panicked, Al had blindly gone sprinting down a path that had been cleared. He ran right into Beetle, who was looking for his little sister that had wandered off.

"Hold this!" He told Beetle, dumping the ears of corn into the gangly boy's arms. He was gone instantly, leaving Beetle to face the Peacekeepers alone. Later that day, Beetle was publicly whipped; it hurt to watch. Even so, it was better than being executed. Overcome with guilt, Al had stolen food for him to make up for it. And that was how their friendship had sprouted—from a stolen bundle of corn. Beetle wouldn't let him forget about that anytime soon. As far as he was concerned, Al owed him a lifetime supply of corn.

"Unca Al! Unca Al!"

Al blinked away these memories to see Beetle's two littlest sisters—Gossy and Peatrice—come bounding up. Peatrice, only 5 years old and extremely tiny, was wriggling with excitement.

"How many times do I have to tell ya, kid? I ain't your uncle!" Al said irritably.

Beetle ignored his sisters completely as the two of them crowded around 'Uncle Al,' tugging on his arms. "We're looking for someone!" Gossy grinned.

"Unca Bats!" Peatrice burst out, "We're gonna play the screaming game!"

Al's mouth popped open and he gave an excited gasp. "Oh! I've seen Uncle Bats!" He said in a hushed voice, his blue eyes widening dramatically.

"Where, where?" Peatrice squealed.

"He went that way!" Al said, pointing in some random direction. "But before you go, make sure to share these with him, okay?" He pulled out a tiny pouch of strawberries and handed it to Gossy.

"Thank you!" She said, her eyes shining gratefully. Then she ran off to catch up with Peatrice, who had gone off in search of 'Uncle Bats.'

"You're so good with kids." Beetle said, looking amused, "I'd play with 'em like that, but then they'd lose all their respect for me." Beetle was sort of a surrogate father to his family after his own had passed away. He never let his fun side show in front of the little ones.

"Aw, I ain't _that _good with kids!" Al laughed, scratching at his wiry brown hair. "I was just messin' with 'em."

At this point, the escort announced that the Reaping was about to begin. Agatha cast a nervous glance at the stage. Her hands were cupped to her chest.

"Whatcha got there?" Al wondered as they all moved to sign in together.

"A cockroach." Beetle answered.

"It is not!" Agatha said, looking defensive. She unfolded her hands to reveal a bright green bug. "It's a jewel beetle. I found it this morning."

"Let it go. You think it likes being trapped in your hands like that?" Beetle said simply. Agatha lowered her eyes, and Al could see tears gathering in them.

"Hey, don't worry kid!" He told her, reaching out and giving her an awkward pat on the back, "A couple hours from now we'll all be havin' a big old jamboree 'cause the Reaping will be over and it won't be back for another year!"

Agitha seemed to smile a little bit, but still held her bug close, as if she could suck comfort right out of its hard shell. After helping her sign in, the two boys split off. Al stood among the 15-year olds. Beetle stood directly behind him, with the 16-year olds.

"Hey Beetle, if I get reaped, will you volunteer for me?" Al joked loudly.

Beetle smiled. "Hell no."

During the propaganda film, Al kept up a continuous stream of wisecracks and snide commentary. Luckily he and Beetle were nestled at the center of the crowd of teenagers, safe from the wrath of Peacekeepers. After about ten minutes, the female escort appeared onstage. She introduced herself and got right down to business.

"Quinoa Rheape." She announced, drawing the first name.

Silence followed her words.

"Do we have a Quinoa Rheape?" The escort repeated.

There was a chorus of snickering from the back of the crowd. Al craned his neck to spot two Peacekeepers dragging a little girl towards the stage. Her sunburnt face was filled with fear, her dark eyes as wide as dinner plates. Her hair was light brown and messy, and she wore stained overalls. She didn't look suited to be here at all.

"Looks like we got here just in time," One Peacekeeper said, shoving her forward, "It was your lucky day, too."

They dragged her all the way to the stage, and then left her in the company of the escort. She stood there, shaking all over. Her eyes darted all over the place as she tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

Al sighed inwardly. Poor kid.

"So you're Quinoa, are you?" The escort asked kindly, taking a step towards her.

Quinoa gave a short cry and backed up a few steps. Al heard a cruel laugh from nearby. "She's afraid of the escort!"

Frowning, the escort turned away and approached the ball that contained hundreds of boys' names. As the escort reached in and selected the male tribute for this year, Al's confidence didn't waver. There was no way he would get picked. Luck was always on his side.

He didn't know that this was the day his luck would come to an end.

**District 12**

Rina lay on her tiny bed, staring up at the high ceiling of the warehouse. She hadn't moved from this position for hours, her mind swimming with thoughts of the Reaping tomorrow. Her stomach growled incessantly, but there was no food to be found.

She had already entered through the other partitions, ransacking the rooms of her gang as she searched for a meal. But she found nothing. So she just lay on her bed, feeling hungry and useless.

All of the men she lived with worked in the mines. She was still stuck in school, but she had no idea what she would do when she got out. She needed to think of something or else her gang would kick her out for her lack of contribution. It was bad enough they were always in danger of being discovered and evicted.

"Ugh! Where are they?!" Rina burst out suddenly, sitting up to glare at her clock. The stupid thing had broken weeks ago, but she couldn't break the habit of checking it. Maybe she could convince Chase to buy her some batteries later, if he had money to spare.

At that moment, there was a dull clunking sound as the door of the warehouse was wrenched open. She could hear excited voices permeating the still air, echoing off the walls of the gigantic room. Rina forced herself to get up and go meet the rest of her gang, parting a thin curtain that separated it from the main part of the room they called the studio.

Five young men were slapping bags of food down onto the table, chattering quite happily. Their white undershirts were stained with sweat and coal dust, but that didn't dampen their spirits at all.

Rina approached the spread of food, smiling.

"There's my girl!" Chase shouted when he saw her, offering her a chicken leg.

"I'm not your girl." Rina said, rolling her eyes, but she accepted the food gratefully. She turned to look at the other guys.

There was Chase, the leader of their little gang. Andre was closest to her in age—the only teenager of the bunch, aside from herself. The two Santiago brothers had some mad synchronized dancing skills—and Clave was pretty quiet, but he was a genius. He didn't deserve to work in the coalmines with the rest of them. Still, Rina didn't like him very much. While everyone else seemed to enjoy her company, he always seemed to be judging her, as if he thought she was useless for still being in school.

She sighed, blissfully listening to them discuss their day, feeling more at home than she could ever be. She refused to think about the life she led before this. The day she discovered this warehouse, with these five young men living carefree lives filled with music, was the day her life turned for the better.

Anything before that didn't matter. The past just wasn't important.

"What say we hit the floor dancing after dinner?" Chase grinned, licking grease off his fingers, "I got some new breakdancing moves that are just to die for."

The rest of the guys agreed, a spark alighting in their tired eyes. Rina hesitated.

"You in, Rina?" Andre questioned.

"No. I'm not in the mood." She said, slurping up her drink and avoiding everyone's eyes.

"Why not?"

"I'm just _not_, okay?" She growled, "God, do I have to dance with you guys every time you come home from work?"

"Someone's PMSing…" Deniro Santiago chuckled under his breath.

Rina shot him a death-glare. "Just because you don't have to worry about being reaped…!" Her throat closed up with anger and frustration. She was usually able to keep her emotions in check, but it had been a rough day. She turned and stomped from the room before they could say anything.

"That wasn't nice," Deniro's brother, Deniroy chided, "Someone go apologize and get her to come back…"

But she didn't feel like being around them tonight. She curled up in her bed, nibbling on a roll she had taken with her. She could see her reflection in her dirty mirror, positioned directly across from her bed. It was hanging on the partition that separated her room from Chase's. Her long black hair was a mess from having stayed in bed all day. She searched her blue, almond-shaped eyes for tears, but she was relieved to find that her face appeared devoid of emotion.

Feeling a bit calmer, she tied her hair up in a ponytail. Her curtain parted and Chase came into her room, looking apologetic.

"Ever hear of knocking?" Rina asked sarcastically.

"On what?" Chase wondered, rapping his fist on the flimsy curtain.

Rina sighed. "Did Santiago send you?"

"Yeah, I'm apologizing on his behalf. I think we'd all like it if you joined us for a dance session. It's a great stress reliever!" He grinned and flashed her a thumbs-up, trying to look jovial.

She couldn't help but smile. "All right," She agreed, "If it'll take my mind off the Reaping."

"Trust me, it will." Chase said, leading her out to the makeshift dance floor, where the rest of their crew had gathered.

"All right, Rina!" Andre cheered enthusiastically.

The Santiago twins shot her identical smiles as she passed them by. She gave DeNiro a playful shove as she passed him and he cried out, "Hey! I'm DeNiroy!" She turned to the other twin and started pummeling him with her fists. He cried out, "Wait, wait, he's lying! _I'm _DeNiroy!"

Rina just laughed and ceased her attack. Chase brought out a beat-up, old stereo they looked older than all of them combined. He turned it on and the fuzzy sound of static combined with a song filled the confines of the abandoned warehouse.

The six of them danced well on into the night, learning new moves and rehearsing old ones. And for the time being, Rina completely forgot about what lay ahead.

* * *

"Whaz up, peeps? The name's Seyuto Yosuke Laresses. I'm a 15-year old gangsta livin' the good life in District 12. D12, represent!"

Smirking, Seyuto removed his fedora and ran a hand through his black, feathery hair, styled to resemble a mohawk. "This beautiful head of hair was styled by yours truly. And you suckas see these shoes? Customized 'em myself!" He raised a foot to show off his high-tops and a pair of ripped skinny jeans. "And to all those ladies wondering: I'm one part Asian, one part white guy, and _all _badass."

Seyuto began beat boxing under his breath, turning his head to show off the many studs in his left ear (that he had also done himself). After a minute of wordless beats, Seyuto backed up and motioned around him.

"Anyways, let me introduce ya to mah pad. It may _look _like a simple shack, but it contains all sorts of secrets…BAM!" He whipped a dagger out of nowhere, pointing it around him threateningly. "Like a boss! Anyways, this is the home of the District 12 Devastators, coughed up from the dregs of the district, unwanted by anyone but each other! We the best street gang you eva did see! Faceless Assassins? They ain't shiz! The Demons? Laaame!"

He moonwalked over to where a tall boy with blonde, windswept hair was snoozing on a raggedy couch with holes ripped into it. "This here's mah main man, Firenze. But we just call him Fires."

Firenze shot Seyuto an irritated look and returned to his nap.

"And ova here…" Seyuto said, crossing over to a frowning boy with long, dirty blonde hair "Is the gang's hit man. Tiger! But he don't actually kill no one cuz, y'know…that's illegal."

Tiger was currently sharpening a pair of knives, looking threatening enough. He shot a glare at Seyuto and growled, "Hey."

"Now Thorn Rollins isn't here right now, but lemme tell you about that pretty little lady…"

Thorn giggled.

"Just what are you two doing?" A boy came striding into the shack, arching an eyebrow at Thorn and Seyuto. His hair had sloppily been dyed a vibrant shade of blue that contrasted sharply with his pale skin. "Where did you get that camera?"

Thorn aimed the camera in Marth's direction and he held up a hand, blocking his face from being captured.

"It's a secret!" Seyuto declared, narrowing his eyes.

"We stole it from the Reaping this morning," Thorn said proudly, running a hand through her dark, spiky hair, "They were getting stuff set up…and when they weren't looking, we swiped a camera!" She couldn't have looked more pleased.

Seyuto groaned inwardly and braced himself to be attacked by Marth's words of wisdom. But the blue-haired teenager just looked at them calmly for a moment. Then he shrugged. "As long as you didn't get caught."

"Aww yeah, boy!" Seyuto cheered, doing a little victory dance, "C'mon Thorn, back to filming."

"Oh no!" She let out a sharp gasp.

"What? What is it?"

"I don't think it was filming." She held the camera up sadly, revealing that it had gone into sleep mode.

"Aw, man! How did you not realize it wasn't filming?!" Seyuto moaned, slapping his forehead.

Thorn's gray eyes widened defensively. "Well excuse me for never having used an expensive camera before!" She spat at him.

"We'll just hafta do it again. On me in three, two…"

"Seyuto!" Tiger snapped suddenly, "Don't be an idiot, we gotta get to the Reaping."

Seyuto paused. "Oh, man, I forgot. Sorry, bro."

Tiger just started packing away his knives, grumbling to himself. Seyuto was instantly reminded of the high tensions that had been shared among his gang for the past few weeks. Tiger was pissed; he thought _he _deserved to be the leader of the group, not Seyuto. He was all about calling the shots lately. Meanwhile, Firenze and Marth had become overly concerned about their share of the cash the team scraped together. Only Thorn remained loyal to Seyuto.

Despite all of this, the five of them went to the Reaping together. Seyuto led the way, holding his head high despite the fact that every "devastator" was taller than him.

Sadly, Seyuto was the youngest of his male friends. Firenze and Marth headed off to the 17-year old section while Tiger stalked towards the 16-year olds. Seyuto didn't care much for Tiger, so he didn't bother securing a spot near him. Instead, he hung out with Thorn, enjoying the freaked out looks he got from other teenagers.

"Do you ever wonder if you'll see your parents again?" Thorn spoke up quite suddenly.

Seyuto shot her an annoyed glance. He forgot how sappy she could get on Reaping day, as if she expected to be reaped. He just rolled his eyes and humored her. "No, I don't. I don't even remember what those fools look like."

"I remember mine." Thorn said quietly, "Sometimes I even wonder if they cared that I ran away."

"Eh, probably not." Seyuto shrugged a shoulder, "I mean, they didn't come looking for ya."

Thorn remained silent. Seyuto knew she was mulling it over in her head. "Well, I'm outta here," He said, shoving his fists in the pockets of his faded hoodie, "Later."

"Later." Thorn sighed.

He moved off. When he looked back, Thorn had disappeared among the throng of people, off to her respective section. Seyuto forced his way into a group of 15-year olds, shouting, "Move it, freaks!"

Some looked intimidated, while others held back peals of laughter as short little Seyuto shoved them aside. He secured a spot and stood there with his arms folding, glaring at the escort, who was waiting for the Reaping to begin.

"Twenty bucks Ronnie Rivera gets reaped." A voice from behind muttered.

Seyuto was tempted to get in on the betting to make a quick buck, but the ceremony began before he could. _Man, this is bogus… _Seyuto thought, feeling bored at the usual procedures. He waited impatiently for the female tribute to be selected, hoping it wouldn't be Thorn.

It wasn't.

* * *

"Rina Hale." The escort announced.

Rina couldn't believe it. She had never taken out any tesserae—she valued her life far too much. And the boys always supported her thanks to their work in the coalmines. She forced herself to keep her emotions in check, calmly stepping out of line and approaching the stage.

She thought of her gang standing in the general audience. She hoped she was coming off as tough, but she felt completely devastated on the inside. As she came to the escort's side, she faked a charming smile and gave a small wave to the audience. They just stared back blankly, as expected.

Rina let the smile fall from her face. The escort asked her how she was, but she remained quiet. If she spoke, she feared she would completely lose it.

The escort just shrugged and moved on to select the male tribute. She clasped the slip of paper between satin gloves, staring at it for a few moments.

"Umm…Seeyooto…Seyuto? Seyuto Yosoo…err…Seyuto Laresses?"

The name sounded familiar, but Rina couldn't place a face to it. She searched the crowd for a sign of the male tribute, but no one moved. He was most likely frozen with fear, as she had been moments ago. But then a fierce shout went up from the boy section, filling the stillness.

"Yo Fires! Gimme a beat!"

_Oh, you've gotta be kidding me… _Rina thought as a short, Asian-looking kid popped out of the 15-year old section. He began swaggering up to the stage, accompanied by the faint sound of beat boxing from one of his friends. He charged right for the escort and tore the microphone out of her hand. Then he began to rap:

"Juss cuz I'm reaped, duzn't mean I'm really weak! I got the looks, I got the money, I got everythin' you'd eva want! Now know I'm serious, yeah I ain't delirious, you'd ain't gonna wanna mess with me when I get to the Capitol; I'mma kick yo butt right outta town! Now listen to me, cuz what I say is what I mean. You not gonna know what hit you when I get to town! Yeah…"

He thrust the microphone back into the escort's hands and began breakdancing. Rina watched him, unimpressed with his moves. "Are you finished?" She asked sarcastically.

A few jubilant shouts went up from the crowd. Rina held back a laugh—looks like he had at least two or three fans out there. Seyuto leaped to his feet, smirking triumphantly.

"Err…that was a wonderful performance." The escort said awkwardly, looking a bit freaked out, "Now if you'll please shake hands…"

As Rina shook Seyuto's hand, she realized where she had seen him before. Him and his ridiculous little gang of thugs had tried to break into their warehouse, wielding knives. Despite the fact that her group was older than theirs, it was still terrifying. At first, she thought they were there to fight for their territory—after all, their warehouse was a good space to have.

But then they discovered they were just trying to get a message across. 'We're a gang too, so don't mess with us' or something of that sort. It was completely unprovoked. Chase still had scars to show for it after some longhaired freak had gotten carried away during the fight.

Rina glared at Seyuto, but he didn't seem to recognize her. Together, they were herded towards the Justice Building as rage filled Rina to her fingertips. She had never thought about killing anyone; surviving was more important than anything.

But if she had to kill to survive, then she would gladly do it—especially if it meant killing this little punk.

**I FINISHED THE REAAAPIIIINGSSSS! :D Wee! Thank goodness! Here's a tentative schedule for the next few chapters:**

**3 chapters of Goodbyes  
2 chapters of Train Rides  
The Chariot Ride  
Training  
Training plus Facing the Gamemakers  
Learning the Scores  
2 chapters of Interviews  
A special chapter to take the place of the now-cancelled ball  
The Bloodbath**

**Also, D12 represent! Yeah, buddy! Apparently that's where I'd be from according to the map on my profile. Which you should check out if you haven't already.**


	8. Goodbyes Part 1

**200 reviews! :) Thanks everyone! Make sure to vote in the poll if you haven't already.  
**

**Usually the goodbyes go boy, girl, boy, but this year I'm switching it up! Also, I try to keep them close in length, but it really depends on how many people come to see them.**

******And now for a moment of shameless advertising. If you're a fan of sarcasm and laughing, you should go to my favorites and read the first chapter of my sister's new story "The Customer Is (Not) Always Right." Yes, it's a Zelda story, but you don't need to know anything about Zelda. Seriously. So, like, go read it. Now. Or after you read this chapter, whichever. And make sure to leave a review!**

**District 1**

Jade paced impatiently in the room she had been provided. It was actually quite nice with a red satin couch and a saltwater fish tank casting a blue glow onto the floor. Multicolored fish flitted among soft pink anemone. But she was too nervous to appreciate any of it. So many things had gone wrong! That blunder in her speech…Ian being reaped alongside her…she just shook her head, wondering what her parents would say. Her usual sense of confidence had been completely shattered.

When Quartz and Jewel entered the room, she tried to meet their eyes and appear as if nothing was wrong.

"Oh darling, you were wonderful!" Jewel squealed, throwing her arms around her daughter.

"We're so proud of you." Quartz agreed, looking fondly at Jade. She smiled, reveling in their praise.

"If only you hadn't choked on your speech." Her mother added.

Jade's smile dropped away instantly. She had expected this. "I'm sorry," She apologized, her voice wavering ever so slightly, "I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, of course you didn't, dear." Jewel said, patting her daughter's cheek, "We know you would never let us down on purpose. Just make sure not to disappoint us in the Capitol, all right?"

"Of course." Jade promised, dipping her head.

Her parents left her feeling like crap. Jade sat down on the plush couch, moaning slightly under her breath. _Why did I have to go and ruin everything? Now I'll be the laughingstock of the district… _A fierce determination suddenly lit up in her heart. She clenched her fists on her pretty dress, wrinkling the fabric. _I'll just have to make up for it in the Games._

"Jade?" The door quietly creaked open and she faced her second visitor.

"Jasper!" She exclaimed, throwing herself at her brother.

He caught her in an embrace. "You were great."

"No I wasn't."

"Don't listen to Mom and Dad," Jasper said, drawing back to look her firmly in the eye, "You just do your thing, Jade. I'm sure you'll be amazing."

"Thanks." She sighed, "Speaking of Mom and Dad, why didn't you come in with them?"

"They didn't want me interfering." He shrugged nonchalantly, but she could see the hurt in his eyes.

"Oh, Jasper…when I'm the victor, I promise things will be different. No more favoritism and no more skipped meals." Her stomach growled, appropriately agreeing with her.

Jasper's eyes were distant. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you, sis…but I know you've got to do this. Just promise me one thing?"

"I can't promise I'll come back." Jade shook her head.

Jasper laughed. "That's not what I was going to say. Remember how we used to sneak out at night and go stargazing in the highest places we could find?"

She smiled warmly at the memory. "Yeah, before I got so involved in my training. That was fun."

"Well, I'd like to do it again. If you get back, that is."

"Okay," Jade said, taking his hand in hers, "It's a deal."

The Peacekeepers came to take her brother away after that. As the door closed behind them, she felt true sadness. She wouldn't miss her parents—but she would miss him. She was fairly confident she would return home, but how would he get on in these weeks without her?

A few family friends came to wish her luck after that, but she was becoming restless. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Jasper and the Hunger Games. Finally, the stream of people stopped coming. She sat in silence for a full five minutes, believing her farewells to be over. Soon, they would take her away from here. But then the door opened and in came an unexpected visitor.

"Chardonnay!" Jade hissed, instantly on her feet and tensing herself for a fight.

"Wait!" Chardonnay said, throwing up her hands, "Before you say anything…I came to apologize."

Jade paused, just staring at her enemy, trying to comprehend what she had said.

Chardonnay took a deep breath and began in a tearful voice, "I just…I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for stealing Ian from you. I never should have traded my best friend for such a shallow boyfriend." She shook her head regretfully.

"Char…" Jade murmured, feeling overcome with emotion.

"Shush!" Chardonnay said, holding up a finger, "I haven't finished telling you what an idiot I am. I guess I was always just jealous of you, and when Ian left you, I—"

"Enough." Jade said firmly, "I forgive you."

Chardonnay let out a sigh of relief, smiling gratefully. "Thank you, Jade. You really are a great friend."

After her apology, Jade knew she couldn't stay mad at Chardonnay. Besides, it was the perfect opportunity to tie up loose ends. If she died, this wouldn't be on her conscience. "I missed having you around," Jade confessed.

Chardonnay beamed and moved forward to hug her friend. "I missed you too! I promise things will be different when you come back."

Jade just smiled and nodded, overjoyed to have her companion back, if only for a brief moment. Chardonnay let her go and began to move towards the door.

"Good luck, Jade." She said sincerely, "I know you can do it!"

"Thanks, Char." Jade returned, "I'll see you when I get home!"

Chardonnay just smiled and quietly shut the door behind her. All of Jade's confidence had returned. Now, she felt she was ready to face the Hunger Games.

* * *

Ian lazed gleefully on the couch his room provided, looking forward to his onslaught of visitors. He briefly wondered if Jade would have as many as him, but decided he didn't care.

His first guest was none other than his mother, Precious Lancaster. She was looking positively vibrant in a white dress that glittered in the artificial light of the room. She pushed a blonde curl behind her ear, gazing proudly at her son.

"Your father couldn't make it today. He's feeling ill," was the first thing she said.

"What father?" Ian laughed, moving forward and allowing his mother to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Surely you don't mean that disgusting slob, Cologne?"

She smiled mischievously.

Ian nodded, immediately knowing what was up. "Oh, I see. You've found someone else."

Precious nodded, giggling, "Cologne won't have to worry about his obesity problem in a few more days, given his condition. It doesn't look as if he's going to make it."

Ian joined in, chuckling, "You know, Mother, people have been getting suspicious. How many husbands have you downed? Four?"

"He'll be the fifth." Precious confirmed, counting her fingers, "Don't worry, everyone just thinks I'm cursed, doomed to be forever alone…but enough about me, darling. I trust you'll remember everything I taught you when it comes to the Games?"

"Of course, Mother." Ian purred, "I do hope it won't bore the Capitol, though…"

Precious shrugged. "Just make sure to balance it out with some blood-spilling. Make me proud!" She grabbed her son's face and planted another kiss on his forehead.

"I'll do that and more." He promised solemnly.

After that, his 14-year old sister Opal Carlyle came to say goodbye. She was practically the opposite of Ian—quiet, proper, never into the social scene like he was. Unlike him, she had dark eyes and was pretty tiny, thanks to the fact they had different fathers. But that didn't mean he loved her any less.

"Hey there," He said, cocking an eyebrow at her, "Why so sad?"

Opal blinked away the tears that had been forming in her eyes. "I'm not sad," She said in a stern voice, "Just a little bit scared I might be losing my brother." She reached forward and straightened Ian's collar, trying to look unconcerned.

"You won't." He assured her, bringing her in for a hug.

She stiffened in his grip for a moment, then returned the embrace. When she spoke, her voice cracked. "We don't even need the money…you don't have to do this."

Ian felt a flash of annoyance. His sister should have been happy for him, like everyone else. Had Mother been crying? No. But he didn't let this show on his face. He tried to sound comforting as he told her, "It's too late to turn back now, Opal. Trust me, I'll be fine."

He held her for the few minutes that they had together, and then she was taken away. After that, the mood lightened considerably. First, Ian's sidekicks popped in for a visit. Sterling showered Ian with words of praise, while Whiskey remained oddly quiet. Finally, he bucked up the courage to ask if he could start dating Diamond if Ian shouldn't return.

"No," Ian said flatly.

Whiskey didn't push the issue further and sulked out of the room, followed closely by Sterling. Three seconds later, Ian's jewels burst in, babbling about how wonderful he was. He just sat on the couch, drinking in their praise. They all clamored to touch him one last time, professing their amount of love they had for him. God, he was going to miss this. It seemed far too soon when the Peacekeepers led the girls from the room. Just one visitor remained.

For some reason, she was a bit late. As soon as she came in, Ian rose to his feet.

He moved in to kiss her, but Chardonnay unexpectedly grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards her, leering into his eyes. "Look here, you…" She said in a threatening voice, "Don't you _dare _let that bitch steal the win from you. Don't you let her stab you in the back because she'll be looking for the opportunity to take her revenge."

Ian opened his mouth to reassure her he wouldn't, but Chardonnay smashed her lips into his, cutting him off. He relaxed in her grip, just letting the kiss take precedence. Eventually, Chardonnay let him go and backed off, bowing her head.

"I'd make you promise to come home, but I know it's a promise no one can keep."

Ian caught her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "I can." He said silkily, leaning in for another kiss.

Their lips melded into one another's perfectly. But just for a moment—then the door opened and Chardonnay broke apart from Ian.

"Bye, Ian." She said, eyes glittering as she left the room, "Remember what I said. Kill her before she kills you!"

Ian just gave her a small wave, watching approvingly as the door shut behind her. "What an envious little thing she is…" He sighed, shaking his head.

When he came home as a victor, he promised himself he would dump her sorry butt and find someone better.

**District 2**

Sagitta had been put in a dark, depressing room with gray walls and a gray floor. Instead of taking a seat, she stood by the door; she had a feeling her mother would be the first one to visit her.

And she was right.

As soon as she saw her mother's gaunt face appear, Sagitta placed her body in front of the door, blocking it from opening any further. "Go away!" She shouted firmly, "Today's the day I'm finally ridding myself of you."

"What…?" Sahara sounded utterly confused from the other side of the door.

"I said go away!" Sagitta repeated, her voice rising, "These are the repercussions you have to face for not being there for your children. For not even looking for them when they ran away!"

"Sagitta, I'm sorry." Her mother said in a soft voice, pushing on the door. Sagitta didn't give way. She was stronger than Sahara; this door wasn't budging. "Please open the door so we can talk." She pleaded.

"No!" With a surge of strength, Sagitta pushed against the door and shut it. Sahara gave a small cry as she was forced back. "Go drown yourself in your alcohol."

There was no response. She listened for a long while, wondering if her mother had gone away. Then there was a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Sagitta called softly, tensing up.

"Your siblings." The low voice of a Peacekeeper replied. He opened the door and ushered in Serendipity, September, and Cosmic. Each of the twins wore an identical look of concern on their faces for their little sister. Cosmic just eyed her cautiously, as he always did when in her presence.

"Be careful, okay?" Serendipity said, forcing a hug on Sagitta.

September joined in. "I know you'll be great, but don't let it get to your head!" She chided.

Sagitta grimaced. "I'm not an idiot. I've seen the stupidity of Careers in the past. I won't be making any mistakes."

"You better not!" September gave her a shake.

Sagitta caught Cosmic's eye and he looked away, saying nothing. Their time together flew by, and soon the three of them were replaced with a wretched Novae.

"I'm really sorry I challenged you for the spot! I don't know what got into me!" She kept saying.

Sagitta glared at her friend. Having her trust damaged was not something she enjoyed. "Well, I'm the one standing her now, aren't I?" She said in a smug voice, "So there's really nothing to be sorry for."

She could see her words had the intended effect. Novae slunk from the room like a disciplined pup. On the way out, she nearly ran into Angeliqa, who was waiting her turn. She flinched and immediately retreated down the hall. Angeliqa didn't spare her a second glance, going inside to say goodbye to Sagitta.

They observed one another calmly. "Thanks for helping me out today," Sagitta said, "I don't think I would have made it up there if not for you."

"No problem, but Novae better not screw up again or else she won't live to see the light of day." Angeliqa replied, a scary look in her eye.

Sagitta didn't bother arguing with her. Angeliqa did as she pleased.

"I look forward to the three of us being consecutive winners." She said, tossing her hair.

Angeliqa just nodded. She left the room as quickly as she had come, feeling positive that she would see her friend by the next month. Charisma came in next, rabid with excitement.

"Oh my gosh, I just know you're gonna do great!" She gushed, throwing her arms around Sagitta's neck and bouncing up and down, "Make sure you get a bow and arrow! Then I can show everyone my tattoo. Ooh, it's gonna be so much fun when you win!"

Sagitta just listened, unable to keep from smirking. She was a bit sad to see Charisma go. The room seemed a little brighter with her in it, but quickly returned to its dismal state after she left.

Her final visitor of the day was the one she had been looking forward to the most—her father, Angelo. But she never would have told him that. A long time ago, he had tried to save her and her siblings from Sahara's wrath by taking custody of his children. But Sahara had been dating a rich businessman at the time, even richer than Angelo. He and Sahara bribed the judge into siding with them, saving her image in the process.

Her father had given up after that. She wished he would try again, but there was something in the legal system that said he couldn't. At least he tried to maintain his relationship with his children to the best of his ability. He supported them as well, sending money every month. He was so different from all of those sleazy boyfriends her mother came home with. He even paid for her training, just to make her happy.

Now he smiled at the sight of his daughter. He crossed the room and enfolded her in his arms, but she didn't return the hug.

"I'm going to win in your name," Sagitta said, her voice muffled.

Angelo held her a little tighter. "Of course you will." He said, his voice full of pride, "I see myself in you, Sagitta. I know you can do it."

Sagitta pulled away from him, looking at him seriously. "Thank you for everything."

He squeezed her shoulder. She could see emotion welling up in his eyes, but he didn't cry. "And thank _you _for being a wonderful daughter."

* * *

Fitting nine people into a tiny little room was no small feat, but the Black family still managed to do it. Luckily, the uncles hadn't brought in their wives, but they had forced all of Xander's cousins to come along and wish him luck. Only Curtis appeared to be somewhat happy for him, repeatedly counting the money he had earned from their bet. Lucifer, Abe, and Patricio looked on rather enviously as their fathers showered praise on Xander. He felt a little bit awkward because of it.

"You did a great job!" Sextus declared.

"He didn't even _do _anything." Abe grumbled.

Lucifer agreed, "Yeah, it's not like anyone challenged him…"

"You could have challenged me for it." Xander said innocently, "I would have loved to put you in your place."

Lucifer made a move as if to lunge towards Xander, but Clovis placed a hand on his shoulder, halting him in the process.

Eventually, the Peacekeepers appeared to take them out. The cousins trudged through the door sullenly, while the uncles shouted back words of encouragement. "Remember not to make the same mistakes your father did!" Were Art's last words as the door shut behind him.

Xander felt a prick of annoyance, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He would never see his family again, unless he returned home.

A moment later, Theo appeared in the doorway and all of Xander's irritation vanished. "Hey!" He greeted his best friend enthusiastically, pounding him on the back. Theo dropped his book at the unexpected greeting.

"Hey…!" He said, bending down to pick it back up. "No need to be so rough."

Xander rolled his eyes playfully. "Like I said: go back to District 3."

"You'd know I'd much rather be in a _cool_ district, with you." Theo grinned, "By the way, interesting speech. I'm sure you made quite the impression on many people."

"Oh, the jokes?" Xander let out a laugh, "It was just a spur of the moment thing, I felt like I had to do something, y'know? Was that a bad choice?"

"I don't know. Ask District 1 when you get to the Capitol."

Xander's smile faltered. "Huh?"

"District 1 will probably be getting a taste of your humor during the recaps, don't you think?" Theo said, arching an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Oh…I didn't think of that." Xander admitted, "…Well, shoot. Hopefully they'll be good sports about it."

Theo's expression turned warm. "Yes, hopefully. In the meantime, I want to wish you the best of luck. If you don't come back…err…" He suddenly looked flustered; searching for words, "Just make sure you come back, okay? Otherwise I won't know what to do with myself…"

"Aww, I'll miss you too!" Xander said, pounding his best bud on the back once more, practically knocking him over.

"Held onto my book that time." Theo grinned, once he had recovered.

The door opened and the Peacekeepers came to take Theo away. Xander quietly watched him go, feeling a sense of loneliness steal over him. At least he still had one more visitor to look forward to.

"Sev!" Xander cried out as she rushed inside the room, right after Theo. He caught her in a loving embrace and twirled her around, but accidentally banged his elbow into the wall. "Ow!" He yelped, setting her down and holding his throbbing arm, "Guess there wasn't really enough room in here to do that…"

Severn just laughed and rolled her eyes, massaging his arm with her thin fingers. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you. Does this feel better?"

"Much better." Xander murmured, looking deep into her ocean-blue eyes. He thought he could detect a trace of sadness within them.

"Be careful in the arena, okay?" She blurted out quite suddenly, "Don't do anything too crazy. And remember that the Head Gamemaker likes to destroy her arenas at the end, so if you make it that far—"

Xander gently pushed his lips into her own, cutting her off midsentence. She closed her eyes and gave into the kiss, which lasted for a long moment. Xander broke away and said in a breathless voice, "I'm going to finally prove myself, Sev. And when I do, I promise I'll come back for you. We'll live in the Victor's Village together and go to a seaside resort for our honeymoon, one that Capitolites vacation to. And we'll name our son—mmph!"

This time it was Severn's turn to shut him up with a kiss. They wrapped their arms around one another, forgetting all about the Hunger Games for a brief period of time. Then a door opened and a voice groaned, "Seriously? Again? I swear, every year with these hormonal teenagers…"

Xander and Severn separated, both blushing furiously. The Peacekeeper grabbed Severn's arm and led her towards the door. Before the door had completely shut, she looked back one last time.

"Goodbye, Xander." She murmured almost despairingly.

Xander smiled. "This isn't goodbye."

Then the door shut behind her.

**District 3**

Spark's parents, Harvard and Mona, were very calm and straight-faced at their daughter's goodbye. Still, she could see the disappointment in their eyes. After all, they had wanted her to grow up and follow in their footsteps, join the ranks of District 3 programmers. But now, all of their efforts had gone to waste.

"Be safe, Spark." Was all her father could manage, "Please be safe."

"Stay safe in the Hunger Games? That's impossible, Dad. It's a life or death situation." Spark mumbled, holding her head. Sometimes her parents said really stupid stuff, smart as they were. Listening to them made her current migraine worse than it already was. She was a little bit tempted to open up her book and start reading again (she had calmed down a fair amount since the Reaping), but she knew that would tick her parents off to no end.

"Don't talk to your father like that." Her mother replied instantly, a learned response to Spark's snarky remarks. But she quickly returned to mourning the loss of her daughter.

Spark wasn't quite sure how to feel after they left. On one hand, she was glad to not have them lamenting over her imminent demise. On the other hand, they were her parents and this was most likely the last time she would see them. She bit her lip, wishing to be anywhere else but here.

The door opened quite suddenly and she gave a little jump of surprise. And in came…her brother, Dexter. Her long lost brother who had left home because he didn't like the future his parents had set out for him. Always the rebel, he had married at the mere age of 19…_that _didn't last. But Spark hadn't seen him for more than a year.

She was _supposed _to be mad at him. She always swore to herself that she would give him the cold shoulder if he ever returned. But just the mere sight of him dug up all of these childhood memories and made her initial plan drop away.

"Dex!" She cried out as he rushed forward to hug her.

"Hey Spark…" He croaked, his voice husky with tears, "I'm sorry I haven't been around. If I knew this was going to happen to my little sister, I never would have left."

Spark gave him a weak push, which barely moved him. "You never should have left period." She mumbled, trying not to lose it.

Dexter took a step backwards, looking as if he were ready to defend himself. "I needed to find my own path," He explained, "Surely you understand that."

Spark looked away, hating him for it. She knew he had a good reason to leave, but she refused to acknowledge it. She felt terribly selfish. "Have you spoken to Mom and Dad?"

He shook his head. "No, I made sure to avoid them. I think there's someone else waiting outside to see you, unless he has the wrong room."

"Who is it?" Spark asked curiously.

"Some old man with a cane. You know him?"

"Mr. Johnson." Spark whispered, feeling touched that he would come to see her off.

"Time's up." A Peacekeeper said, opening the door.

Dexter gave his sister a swift hug. "Bye Spark." He murmured, the sadness returning to his voice.

"Bye." She mumbled, blinking away tears, "It was nice seeing you again."

Dexter was lead away and quickly replaced with Mr. Johnson. He hobbled into the room, his wrinkled face wrought with distress. "Miss Watson…" He began to say in a quavering voice.

Spark thrust her book towards him. "Here. The other ones are at home. You'll have to get them from my parents."

"No, please…I want you to keep it." Mr. Johnson said, trying to hand it back to her.

Spark gave a dry laugh. "Yeah, maybe it can be my token and I can read it while I'm in the arena. It was predictable anyways, it's clear to see that she'll make friends with the tiger muttation and save the Capitol from the terrorists."

"…Are you sure you don't want it?"

"Yeah. It's a pretty good book...someone else might want to read it," Spark said, trying to appear resolute, "Oh, and keep the money too. Okay?"

"If you insist." Mr. Johnson said, looking very unhappy, "It's been a pleasure working with you, Miss Watson."

Spark suddenly stepped forward and hugged her boss. He hesitated for a few seconds, and then awkwardly returned it. He was like the grandfather she never had.

As he bid her farewell and hobbled back out of the room, Spark wondered how many more years he would live. The door shut behind him. It sounded like the closing of a life.

"I hope you live to be a hundred." Spark said to the empty room.

* * *

"…said so yourself. That little idiot won't make it past the Bloodbath if he lives through training in the first place."

"Ughh…where'm I...?" Wiley awoke to the sound of voices outside the tiny room he had been given. He was sprawled out on a dusty loveseat, riddled with holes. His head was throbbing and the back of his neck stung. The memory of being reaped quickly reestablished itself within his mind. His first instinct was to get up and start running in a panicked circle, searching for any means of escape, but his heavy limbs refused to respond.

"I know I said something like that," Mr. Corr's booming voice came from right outside the door, "But he needs our encouragement now. I want everyone to go in there and be optimistic! Act like he actually has a chance at winning this thing!"

His father never did realize how loud he could be. Wait…had his mother just called him a little idiot? He fervently hoped he had just been hearing things as he came out of his stupor.

Suddenly, the door flew open and Mr. Corr came strolling into the room, a very forced grin on his face. The rest of the family followed, looking rather dismal. Wiley struggled to sit up as Mr. Corr placed his hands on his hips and beamed down at his son. For a few moments, a wordless silence stretched between them.

Then Craig wailed, "The situation is hopeless! You're going to be dead soon. You want to know what your odds of surviving are? None! None whatsoever!"

Rick gave him a fierce shove, glowering at his little brother. "You and your stinking percentages!" He snarled, "You know who found that interesting? Nobody. That didn't affect anybody's life in any way whatsoever! So thanks for your great contribution—"

"Oh please!" Craig cried out defensively, taking a whack at Rick with his book, "You're the one who was going on and on about how great it would be if you were in the Games. So why didn't you volunteer for Wiley, huh? Because you're a coward and a blowhard!"

"Say one useful thing! One! I dare you!" Rick spluttered, getting right up in Craig's face.

In the uproar, little Neil started throwing a temper tantrum. He threw himself at the door and began pounding his little fists on it screaming, "Not enough space! SPAAACE! Wanna go home, wanna go home, wanna go home!" His mother tried to calm him, but he refused to be tamed.

As if immune to the chaos, Mr. Corr bent down in front of his son and put a hand on his shoulder. "Son, before you go, I just want to give you a good life lesson!" He boomed over the noise.

Wiley just stared past him; unable to look away from the mess of a family he belonged to.

"When life gives you lemons…"

"Yeah, make lemonade." Wiley said, wincing as Rick heaved Craig across the room, into the nearest wall. "I know, Dad, you've told me this before."

"No, son. When life gives you lemons, throw the lemons back! Get angry! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Wiley Corr lemons!" He slapped his son on the back, "Anyways, that's all I got to say."

Wiley just blinked. Rick and Craig were wrestling in a corner, with Rick easily overpowering his bookworm of a brother. He tore the book from Craig's hands and began ripping its pages apart. "Nooooo!" Craig howled, his voice joining in with Neil, who was screeching louder than ever.

"Honey, a little help!" Wiley's mother shouted over the noise, but Mr. Corr ignored her, telling Wiley, "And remember what I've always told you—a Corr fights with his intellect! Though having a weapon might help you out too in this particular situation. Keep that in mind."

At some point, a Peacekeeper popped his head in, took one horrified look at the scene in front of him, and immediately disappeared.

Wiley just sunk deep into the loveseat, lowering his head and holding it between his hands. _I'm going mad… _He thought, unable to block out the dreadful noise of his dysfunctional family, _Please let it be over…I'm going positively mad…!_

**District 4**

The room they had provided Meredith with was spacious yet cozy. She sat in a plush chair, drinking in the peacefulness. She could hear voices making their way down the hall. They stopped at her door, each loudly requesting to be let in to see her off.

_They brought the whole family… _Meredith sighed internally, preparing herself.

Her parents, her grandparents, and her siblings all filed in. She swept her gaze over them and immediately noticed that her Aunt Lynn was missing from their ranks. Then she acknowledged that she would be seeing her aunt a great deal over the next week…she didn't need to be here.

Her grandfather, the esteemed Morgan Calaghan, cleared his throat. The rest of the family shut up respectfully, letting the old man speak. "Meredith," He said in a gruff voice, "I can only hope that you'll bring honor to this family just as your aunt did. It's clear to see _her_ blood runs through your veins…"

Meredith's father, Alamar, flinched at these words. A long time ago, he had trained for the Games much like the rest of his family. But he backed out at the last minute, fearful of his death. His own father had regarded him as a coward ever since.

Vivian, Meredith's older sister, seemed to pick up on Morgan's veiled insult. "Dad made the right decision! If he had died, we wouldn't have been born!" She said heatedly, "Besides, he trained Aunt Lynn and _she _won."

"Vivian…" Her mother said in a warning voice.

"I'm talking to Meredith, not you," Morgan growled, "You had your chance to volunteer, but then you had to go and break your leg."

"Not like it was on purpose." Vivian retorted, rolling her eyes, "Besides, I got to help her train for this. I guess you could say Dad's blood runs through my veins!" She unexpectedly crossed over to Meredith and wrapped her arms around her.

Meredith blinked away her surprise and smiled gratefully at her older sister. "And I owe you a lot for that,"

"I'll let you make it up to me when you get back." Vivian grinned.

Meredith turned her gaze to everyone else. Erving appeared to be sulking. _He would. _Luckily, everyone else seemed to be happy for her. They all started moving in, hugging her one by one and wishing her good luck. Meredith kept a smooth expression, radiating an aura of confidence and assuring everyone that she would return home.

As they left, a sense of excitement stole over her as she grasped what was happening. She was going to compete in the Hunger Games! Nothing but fame and fortune awaited her. On top of that, she would get to show the nation her range of physical and mental abilities. She would put District 4 back on top.

After her family came her two friends, Adrianne and Kelda. Adrianne seemed almost frantic as she spewed tips and observations they had learned from previous Hunger Games.

"Remember everything we discussed!" She said, talking quickly, shoving a list into Meredith's hands, "Here's everything we wrote down the other day: noticeable patterns to be expected from this Head Gamemaker, tactics you can use depending on the arena—"

"Adrianne." Kelda said in a quiet, but firm voice, "She's going to be fine."

Meredith looked on approvingly. "Of course I am. Have a little bit of faith, Adrianne, gosh."

Adrianne laughed, wiping at her eyes. "Sorry, sorry. Good luck! Come home safe!"

They engaged in a group hug, which Meredith quietly withstood. She didn't bother pointing out she didn't need their well wishes.

After they left, Meredith faced a few family friends that wanted to put in their two cents. She tried to thank them politely, but the process was becoming mind-numbingly boring. Each time the door opened, she prayed it would be a Peacekeeper come to take her away.

To her surprise, her Aunt Lynn appeared. She didn't smile, but tipped her head forward expectantly. "Are you ready to go?"

Meredith looked back at her mentor, heart pounding. "Yes."

* * *

Thank God there were only three minutes for each goodbye.

Just three minutes of his parents fawning over him. He already knew no one else was coming, so that was all he would endure. Then he would finally be outta here.

He only had to wait a minute before they were let in. They were just crowing about how proud they were and he had to refrain from yelling at them to shut up.

"I just can't begin to put into words how proud we are of you." Zale's mother said, pressing her hand to her mouth. She seriously looked like she was going to cry.

_Funny. You said the same thing to Coral._

He didn't fake a smile for their sake, or assure them he would come back. He stood there quietly as they hugged him and patted him on the back and spoke countless words of love. It was the exact same scene that had played out years ago, only he had been standing in a corner, looking at his older sister with horror.

That was when she gave him her locket—sealing the promise she made to come home. He could feel the cool touch of it on his skin, underneath his shirt.

He knew his parents' words were empty. When Coral had lost her life, she had lost all of their love as well. Her name became taboo.

Zale supposed he could have screamed at them to shut it and tell them what he really thought of them. But that was a sucky way to leave them. It would only get him worked up and he wanted to be as calm as possible in order to observe his opponents.

Telling them what terrible human beings they were…no, that would have to wait.


	9. Goodbyes Part 2

**I felt like updating early.  
**

**At Guest, I really don't know. We'll probably wind up at 1000 reviews before the Games even begin. But I don't know how long they'll be. At Musical Tributes, are you just a random guest or a reviewer under a different name? XD I've always wondered.  
**

**Hey, this story has more reviews than the 42nd now! And more than half as many words. I guess there's no surprise there since I didn't put as much effort into that story. Plus it got taken down when it was pretty far in. I definitely think this story is going to overtake all the others in its word count and review count. We'll have to wait and see on the number of faves/followers.  
**

**District 5**

Vera was still shaking when her family came to visit her, locked in a cramped little room in the Justice Building. But she tried to keep a straight face for everyone else's sake.

"How are you feeling?" Her mother blurted out right away.

Vera instantly felt the same twinge of irritation she always did when her mother was trying to get inside her head to analyze her. Now was the opportune moment, anyways. The last time she would see her daughter, most likely. She looked past her parents to see Isaac standing there, his eyes shining with tears. Despair crashed down on her heart, so thick and heavy she thought she would sink through the floor.

"Calm yourself, Vera." Vivian said in a soothing voice.

"How can I, Mom?" She whispered, "I can't do this. How can I kill someone when the both of you have devoted your lives to helping people?"

"You're just gonna have to!" Isaac burst out, suddenly coming forward and placing both hands on his half-sister's shoulders. A single tear rolled down his cheek. "_Please_, Vera."

"You're not making this any easier." Vera stated flatly, trying to contain her grief. She couldn't stand the thought of leaving her best friend. All these years spent together…neither of them had been interested in creating bonds with those around them. All they needed was each other.

"You'll think of something." Jacob said, bending down to hug her.

Vera nodded. Already, a plan was starting to formulate in her head. Thinking and analyzing what was to come calmed her nerves. "I'll keep an eye on the other tributes," She murmured, "The first step is knowing my enemy,"

"Try to make a friend as well," Isaac said dryly, "You'll need one."

Vera thought of her district partner. She would observe him first, to see if he was a fitting ally. If he wasn't, there were always other options…the whole thing could be like a learning experience.

Maybe the Games didn't have to be so awful after all, if she viewed them in this light.

* * *

Isaac's mother was absolutely hysterical when she came to visit him. Isaac had to force her to sit down to keep from hyperventilating. She hunched over, crying, unable to speak. Sighing, Isaac sat next to her and rubbed her back. It didn't seem to do her any good. The twins gathered round and comforted her with words of love.

A sense of bitterness washed over Isaac. _He _was the one who had been reaped. _He _was the one that would be dead within the month. They should have been comforting him. He pushed this thought away, trying to dry his mother's tears. Their entire time together was spent with the three of them trying to soothe her.

By the time the Peacekeepers came in, not a single word of goodbye had been addressed to Isaac. George and Adriana shouted sorrowful farewells over their shoulder while Maria continued to wail.

The door shut behind them, cutting off the dreadful sound. Finally, Isaac was free. For a moment, his heart lifted. Now, he would only have himself to look after. He hoped with all his might that his family would be okay—but now, _he_ was his number one priority. It felt kind of nice.

Excitedly, he waited for Gregory to come visit him. He was bursting with energy now that his family had gone.

To his disappointment, the next visitor was not Gregory. The door opened and there stood his ex girlfriend, Marissa.

"Oh. Hi, Marissa." He said, frowning.

"Hey Isaac. It's been a while." She said quietly, "I just wanted to see you off. I hope that's okay?"

"Yeah, fine." Isaac said flatly.

She apologized that it hadn't worked out between them, but Isaac wasn't really listening. He was impatient for her to leave. A long time ago, he had been attracted to her a great deal. But not anymore. It had faded away…she just wasn't what he was looking for. But he tried to remain cordial and say a polite goodbye.

After she left, Gregory finally came in. Isaac was relieved to see Ivanka wasn't with him.

Gregory let out a heavy sigh. "Isaac—"

"Wait." Isaac said nervously, his heart pounding in his chest, "I only have three minutes so I have to make this quick. Gregory, I wanted to thank you for everything. You're the one who truly saved my family…if you hadn't offered me that job at your parents' shop, I never could have put food on the table for them."

"It was nothing—"

Isaac shook his head. "Don't. You've been a really great friend all these years…"

"So have you." Gregory said, smiling sadly.

"You've always been there for me—"

"Don't shortchange yourself."

"—which is why I've come to like you as more than a friend."

"…Huh?" The smile dropped from Gregory's face instantly. He looked at Isaac with wide, confused eyes. "What'd you say?"

"I…I've…" Isaac could feel his face heating up. He tried to meet Gregory's gaze. "I've grown to have feelings for you."

Gregory took a step back, staring at Isaac as if there was something very wrong with him. His face scrunched up in an unreadable expression and Isaac waited for him to say something. Instead, he turned around and walked out of the room.

The door shut behind him and Isaac just stared at it. "G…Greg?" He tried to call after him, but his voice broke. He sunk to his knees, crestfallen, wishing he had never said anything at all.

**District 6**

Viola sat alone in her room for ten minutes, unable to keep from crying. Her parents burst into the room quite unexpectedly, looking very distressed.

"My baby!" Her mother gave a soft cry and wrapped her in an embrace. A second later, her father's strong arms enveloped them both. Then Arietta struggled out of the family's embrace and faced her daughter, looking almost angry. When she spoke, her voice was controlled, with only a hint of sadness. "Make sure to be careful who you trust, all right? And make a slingshot. From whatever materials you can find."

Viola just nodded, unable to speak as tears streamed down her face. Sobs died in her throat as she focused on what her mother was saying.

"Oh!" Arietta suddenly reached up and unclasped a thin chain from around her neck. She held the pendant out to Viola, who took it and turned it in her hands, observing it. "It's a family heirloom."

The pendant was the perfect blend of gold and bronze. It had a tree, a tree with many branching limbs, surrounded by flowers. She had never seen anything so beautiful—if only she could see the real thing. No doubt it would be spectacular.

At this moment, Peacekeepers came into the room. Her mother and father tried to get their arms around her once more, but they were already being dragged off.

"We'll see you again!" Her mother called back desperately, struggling to look back at Viola, "Someday! We'll all meet again!"

The door shut, leaving her alone once more. She gripped the pendant tightly in her little fists, clinging to the only thing she had to remember her parents by. Then slowly, she slipped it around her neck. It was a little bit heavy on her fragile figure, but she welcomed its presence.

Viola thought about her mother's parting words. What if she couldn't meet them again? What if she became a doomed spirit, wandering the Earth, never to make it to paradise…? She didn't have much time to ponder this as her friends came bursting into the room, all talking at once. Viola just stood there, trying to make sense of what they were saying. When it became too much, she cried out, "Enough!"

They immediately quieted and peered at their leader.

"Promise me that the Rebellious Kitais will continue serving justice after I'm gone!" She tried to say in a firm voice, but her voice trembled pathetically, "Okay? Vandalize the Reaping stage like we planned and keep getting at those nasty old Peacekeepers…!"

Her friends exchanged doubtful glances, but she threw her hand out towards them, palm down. Slowly, each of them put a hand on top of hers.

"Promise me." She said again.

"We promise." They echoed. Viola looked at each of them, hoping that they meant it.

When the Peacekeepers came, Viola's friends formed a solid circle around her, clinging to her and crying out their last goodbyes. She stood there, stunned, as the Peacekeepers pried them off one by one and took them away. Her vision blurred with tears as the last one was pulled out the door. She grabbed the tree pendant in her hand and squeezed it with all her might, as if trying to hold on to the memories of her friends and family.

* * *

Piston sat in a hard, wooden chair, nervously wringing his calloused hands. All sorts of emotions burned within him, threatening to swallow him whole. Fear, grief, rage, rage, _rage_…he wanted to punch that hideous Head Peacekeeper's face in. And if they whipped him for it, so what? It would be worth it.

"Piston…?" A low voice murmured, the door to his room creaking open. His father slowly shuffled in, followed by Kat and Maya. Piston could see Maya's face was stained with tears and he averted his gaze.

Henrik let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, son…" He said, choking on his sorrow, "Please don't say this happened because they mistook you for being apart of that union."

Piston mumbled something in response.

"What was that?"

"I said I _was _apart of that union!" Piston spoke up fiercely, rising to his feet, "Just cause _you _keep your head down when it comes to politics doesn't mean _I _do!"

"So…the Peacekeepers were right?" Kat gasped, her jaw dropping, "Piston, why would you go and do such a stupid thing?!"

Piston held his head and shook it, trying to keep himself from yelling at his little sister in their last moments together. "Just—the man in charge made it sound like it could actually work, so I said yeah. But we never even did anything. All I said was yeah…"

"Well that was really dumb!" Kat shrilled.

"Please!" Maya burst out, "Stop fighting!"

Piston took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He forced a smile at his youngest sibling. "It's okay, we're done. _We're done._" He shot a glare at Kat, who still seemed as if she wanted to argue. But she shut her mouth, looking defeated.

Henrik moved forward and hugged his son. "Just do your best," He said, sounding as if he were going to cry, "Don't draw any attention to yourself."

"I'll do whatever I…! …Okay. Thanks, Dad." Piston said, his throat closing with grief.

Maya clung to his arm and sobbed freely. Kat stayed silent, wiping at the tears that ran down her face. Piston looked each of them in turn and realized that he never should have taken their love for granted.

"Goodbye." He said in a soft voice, watching helplessly as the Peacekeepers took his family away. He closed his eyes and recalled all of the good memories he had ever shared with them. If only he could have stopped himself from growing up and going on to make all of those stupid decisions…

The door opened and in came Piston's two best friends: Tanner Wilks and Sara Sparks. Sara had never looked more beautiful than at this moment.

"Piston," Tanner said, hobbling over on his clubbed foot, "I can't believe this is happening," His brown eyes were wide with disbelief, as if he refused to grasp the situation.

"…Got any life-changing advice for me?" Piston said weakly, trying to smile confidently. But he couldn't summon the energy to do so.

Tanner shook his head.

"That's a first." Piston said dryly. Ever since they were little, Tanner had been the more sensible one. They always joked that he was the brain and Piston was the brawn. And Sara was the beauty. They were quite the trio.

"Oh, Piston!" Sara threw her arms around his neck, crying without abandon, "What are we going to do without you?"

"You'll be fine!" Piston replied, trying to appear reassuring, "I'll be fine, too. You'll see." For good measure, he looked at Sara and gave her a wink.

Usually she just shoved him away at any attempts to flirt with her, but now she just blinked at him tearfully. Piston removed his gaze from her and looked back to Tanner. He wondered how the guy would deal with bullies without him. Guys were always taking advantage of Tanner due to his condition, but Piston had stuck by his side through thick and thin, ready to defend him. But he had been careful not to baby Tanner as his family did, only stepping in when help was really needed.

The same thoughts seemed to be going through Tanner's mind as well. "Thanks, Piston." He said in a quiet voice, "I sure am going to miss you…" He turned his face away, trying to hide his sorrow.

"Like I said!" Piston called after them as they were escorted from the room, "I'll be fine! …I hope."

**District 7**

Athena stood on her feet, arms folded firmly across her body, trying to force her heart to beat slower. She kept trying to convince herself that everything was going to be okay. She was ready for everything. If she won, hey, great. If not, then she didn't have to stick around and watch her family deteriorate.

"Athena!"

"Mom?" She turned, startled to see Fable hurrying into the room, her eyes clear and full of intelligence. Just as they used to be.

"Everything's going to be fine, dear," Her mother said, pulling her daughter into a hug. Athena could feel her body trembling against hers.

She couldn't help but let out a laugh, "You're sharp as a tack today, Mom." She probably sounded like a nut, but she was so happy her mother had regressed to how she used to be, if only for a brief moment. These moments were few and far in between and Athena treasured them.

Olive, on the other hand, was bawling her eyes out. Athena looked at her over her mom's shoulder, trying to smile warmly at her. Then their father spoke up.

"Don't cry, Olive," He sighed, sounding depressed, "This might be good for the family…if Athena doesn't die…which she most likely will."

Olive cried even louder.

"Hey, he's right," Athena said, going in to hug her little sister, "I say it's about time District 7 has had a victory around here! The female tributes have come really close to making it in the past. I'll finish the job for them!"

Olive just shook her head, not buying it. "You can't beat a Career."

"That's what _you _think, missy." Athena said, patting her head. She let go of her sister to hug her father next. "You take care of them, Dad." She whispered in his ear, but he didn't respond. What good was it putting her faith in him? He could barely take care of himself. But Athena tried to stay positive.

"Time to go," A Peacekeeper said, opening the door.

Athena waved to her family as they shuffled out the door. "Nice knowing you!" She said in a joking voice, but they didn't react. Except for her mother, who turned around and smiled fondly at her. Her eyes were glazed, betraying no amount of recognition.

"Nice meeting you too." She said, before the door closed behind her.

Athena gave another small laugh. Finally, the tears broke free.

* * *

Barrett paced continuously around the room he was locked in, waiting for his father to come visit him. He had no idea how long he had been out before this. He had just woken up on the dirty floor of the space he had been provided with for his farewells. There was a small bump in his neck, which he kept poking at, willing it to go away. _When is Dad coming? _He wondered over and over.

He began to feel unbearably lonely. He found himself wishing he had brought his sketchbook…or hadn't taken his pills. He immediately shoved the thought away. Those hallucinations were nothing but a threat to society and himself. His father had explained over and over that they weren't real. No one else could see, hear, or touch them like Barrett could. The medication that made them disappear proved that it was just the dark parts of his mind acting up.

Still…when they _were _here, they felt more real than anything. More real than the nameless people who passed by Barrett on the street, the people Barrett would never talk to. He was closer to Echo and Alpha and Omega than his own father.

Did it matter no one else could see them? They were real to him. And now he found himself dreadfully missing their company. Instead, he was alone in this room, with a clear head. Any time he had a clear head, he stressed over the fact that his hallucinations would return tomorrow. But not now.

Suddenly, he remembered something he had in his pocket. He reached in and pulled out a faded pink perfume bottle with a single crack running along its surface. When he wasn't on his medication, he believed his mother to be hiding in the bottle. He had wasted hours of his life trying to convince her to come out and talk to him, but to no avail.

_Maybe I should just chuck it here… _He thought dryly, _then people won't see me talking to it like a lunatic. _

But the bottle was so precious to him…his last memory of Brianne. He couldn't bear to part with it. So he carefully tucked it back into his pocket, where it would stay.

The door flew open, causing Barrett to give a start. He expected to see his father standing there. Instead, it was a surly Peacekeeper.

"It doesn't seem as if anyone is coming," He said in a flat voice.

Barrett just stared at him blankly. "Not…my dad?"

The Peacekeeper shrugged. "We'll give him five more minutes. Everyone was told that they had to come to the Justice Building immediately if they wanted to see the tributes off."

The door slammed behind him, but Barrett barely heard it. He had sunk down into the chair they had provided. Dad wasn't coming. He should have known. Dad had hated him ever since Brianne died. Ever since he had to accept his son for what he was—a scrawny schizophrenic that would never be able to carry on the family business.

"But it's not my fault!" Barrett choked out, tears streaming down his face. He wiped them away, sniffling. _I didn't kill Mom! She killed herself…didn't she?_

He tried to remember back to when it happened. Less than a year after his diagnosis came out…he had walked into the kitchen to find his mother lying in a pool of blood. A scarlet-streaked knife was laying on the floor next to her bloodied wrists, each with a deep slit carved into them.

All Barrett could do was stare, wondering what happened. "_You _killed her." Omega had told him. "No," Alpha argued, "It was suicide."

He could never be sure. But it had ripped apart their family. Now, Emmett refused to even say goodbye to his own son…

A thought struck Barrett, jolting him from his seat.

His father had his medication.

**District 8**

When Thimble's enormous family piled into the room and all started talking to her at once, she felt immensely overwhelmed. She couldn't understand what they were saying at all. She could only pick out bits and pieces. "…So upset this happened…can't have the party without you…love you so much…"

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. "SHUT UP!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. To her dismay, tears sprang into her eyes as she did so. Everyone stopped talking and looked at her, mirroring her grief. She wiped at her eyes, refusing to look at them. "Just have the party without me," She said, her voice shaking, "At least Spoolton made it out alive. Right?"

Someone was hugging her. She lowered her arm and realized it was her mother. Her face twisted painfully as she tried not to cry for everyone else's sake.

"I love you so much." Her mother said softly.

Then her father was there. "We both do," He said in a strong voice. Thimble wished she could have come off that confident.

Then, everyone was hugging her, trying to get his or her arms around her one last time. She couldn't control herself any longer and gave into her grief, allowing the sobs to rack her whole body.

Thredger was the one who steadied her. "Good luck, kid," He whispered, "I'm with you all the way."

Thimble wanted to wail when the Peacekeeper appeared to take everyone away. She wanted to cling to her parents and never let go. But she balled her fists and forced them to stay at her side. One by one, she watched them leave, each casting back rueful glances, uttering last farewells. The door closed firmly behind them, the sound echoing throughout the empty room. Three minutes ago it had been filled with people professing their love for her…now, there was nothing.

Trembling, Thimble tried to clean the tears from her eyes, but they just kept coming. The door opened a minute later, for her next visitor, whom she expected to be Loom.

It wasn't.

"Lacy!" Thimble hissed, momentarily forgetting her distress as it was replaced by fury. How _dare _she come at a time like this?!

"Thimble, wait," Lacy said, twirling a lock of hair in her finger, "I know we've had our differences—"

"Differences?!" Thimble said, practically spitting venom.

"—and I wanted to apologize in case anything I ever said might have offended you."

For a moment, Thimble was so angry she couldn't even find the words for it. The few curse words she knew, courtesy of her older brothers, bubbled up inside her and threatened to spill over. "You bullied me for years," Thimble said through gritted teeth, trying to control herself, "And _that's _your apology? _That's _all you can say, now that I'm being reaped and carted off to die?"

Lacy frowned. "Ugh. And here I thought you'd be willing to let bygones be bygones."

"GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I PUNCH YOUR FAT UGLY FACE IN!" Thimble shrieked, no longer able to contain herself.

Lacy drew herself up, huffing, "Now that was just uncalled fo—"

Thimble let her fist fly, smashing it squarely into Lacy's face. Her delicate nose exploded with blood at the impact, scattering droplets on her pretty little dress. Lacy let out a high-pitched squeal and stumbled backwards, going for the door.

"Forgiveness has to be _earned_, Lacy!" Thimble called after her, "And you sure as hell never did anything to earn it!"

There was no response, but she could hear Lacy fleeing down the hall, crying. Thimble only felt a momentary satisfaction. Then it was infected by a shred of guilt. _At least she won't have to feel bad when I die, _Thimble told herself, trying to shrug it off.

Loom came to see her after that and she could not have been more grateful for his presence. The first thing she told him was, "I punched Lacy Button in the face."

The smallest of smiles creased his stoic face. "Knowing her, she did something to deserve it."

Grinning through tears, Thimble wrapped her arms around Loom's waist. She was more than a head shorter than him and he had to lean down to meet her embrace. The silence they shared was the complete opposite of her first visit. Most of their time together was spent in silence, and this moment wasn't any different.

"You'll be okay," Loom said, drawing back, searching her eyes.

"Will I?" Thimble said bitterly.

Loom nodded and Thimble felt a fresh wave of tears overcome her. He said it with such certainty. She wished she could have believed him.

* * *

Flick was surprised to see his father come into his room alone.

"Where's Astron?" was the first question out of his mouth.

"She wanted an entire three minutes to herself," Andrae replied, scratching nervously at his mustache, "So I guess you and I have got three minutes to kill…"

Flick flinched slightly.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it like that…!" Andrae said awkwardly, looking upset. He began fiddling with his tiny pair of glasses and running a hand through his messy brown hair.

It was at this moment Flick realized how alike he and his father were. "Um…Dad?" He said slowly, his fingers twitching on his leg as he tried to keep from tapping, "Before I go, there's just one thing I want to know…"

"And what's that, son?" Andrae stammered, eyes darting around nervously. As if he expected someone to be eavesdropping.

"How did Mom die?"

"It doesn't matter, boy, what matters is you coming home." Andrae said in a quavering voice.

"Astron said she was murdered." Flick continued.

Andrae placed his hands on his son's shoulders and gave him a slight shake. "You're going to be fine, son, don't think about things like that…"

"Maybe I'll get to see her soon."

"_I said stop talking about it_."

Flick instantly shut his mouth, surprised at the tone his father used with him.

Andrae returned to his nervous gestures, looking flustered, "A-Anyways, I'm sure you'll be fine. You're just like your grandfather…he was a tough man, that Astron. That's why I named your sister after him. He fought in the rebellion—course he d-died, but that doesn't mean anything…"

Flick had stopped listening by now, uninterested in what his father had to say. He never was too good with words, but he could compose amazing music. Just like him, actually. The two bid one another farewell and Andrae slunk out of the room. Much to Flick's surprise, his next visitors were his three friends—Gettys, Minue, and Breaka.

"I foresaw this!" Gettys declared, striding to stand in front of Flick.

"Remember, Flicka, you mustn't be afraid of death," Breaka cautioned him, "Even after you fall into that deep, painless sleep, you won't really be gone. For we shall preserve your memory forevermore."

Flick shuddered. "But that's exactly what I'm afraid of…" He whispered.

"Being remembered?" Minue wondered.

"No…that sense of existing forever, but not existing." Even as he spoke it, it didn't really make sense to him.

"Everything will fall into place, Flicka." Gettys sighed.

He turned to look at her. "You're always saying you can see the future. Well, what's _my _future?"

The three girls laughed at him, like he was purposely being silly. "Flicka, it doesn't work that way." Gettys giggled.

Flick just felt annoyed. "Then how does it work?"

They just laughed again and said, "We'd better be on our way. Your sister's outside and she said she would 'mess us up' if we overstayed our welcome."

Each of them said one last goodbye before exiting, leaving Flick feeling more frustrated than ever. His thoughts ran together like many colors of paint, mixing themselves into a mural of confusion. Luckily, Astron appeared to take his mind off of what his three friends had said.

"About time they left," She scoffed, kneeling down across from Flick, "Anyways, let's get down to business. Have you thought of a strategy yet?"

"Strategy?" Flick echoed.

"Okay, obviously you haven't, so I'm gonna rattle off some tips for you. Maybe your mentor will tell you different, I don't know, but this is what _I _think you should do. Are you listening?"

Flick forced himself to stop fidgeting and look attentively at his older sister. "Yes."

"All right. First of all, I think you'd be best off alone in the arena. If you absolutely think you can't get by without an ally, then go ahead and get one—make sure they have a strong personality and can be of some use to you. But also make sure that they're someone you can take out if you have to."

Flick nodded, his hands twitching from their position on his knees. Astron caught the movement.

"And don't you dare start tapping or humming when you're in hiding! If you can't help it, stay up in the trees or do it during the anthem. Got that?" She said sharply.

Flick nodded.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

"Good," Astron continued, "Travel only by night, if you can. And take out anyone that comes close, no matter what."

The Peacekeeper suddenly appeared to lead her out, but she ignored him, still rattling off tips. Rolling his eyes, the older man had to grab one of her arms and start dragging her towards the door. Astron didn't offer any resistance, but her voice rose as she shouted last bits of advice at her little brother.

"Just try and wait out the Games! Make sure no one can find you, no matter how hard they try! Goodbye, Flick—I love you!"

"I love you too—" Flick called back, but the door shut loudly behind his sister, cutting them off from each other once and for all.


	10. Goodbyes Part 3

**ARRGH! EVEN WHEN I TRY AND STOP MYSELF FROM UPDATING TOO FAST I CAN'T HELP IT! I wanna reach the Games when summer comes, gosh darn it! Hrrngh...I'm gonna force myself to slow down and this time I really mean it!  
**

**I had a dream a few nights ago that Marvel was my best friend and we trained alongside one another. Then he went off to the 74th Hunger Games and I remained behind, watching them play out in some movie theatre. When Rue died, everyone was crying over her, but I was just like "Maaaarveeeeelllll ;_;" when I saw him dead in the grass. Farewell, my fictatious dream best friend. We had good times.  
**

**Hrm. There are a few people that didn't give me interview outfits. I feel like I shouldn't have them walk out naked though. Maybe I'll just give them something really ugly to wear, unless anyone has better ideas.  
**

**One last thing, I'll reveal who the last poll next time and have a new one up for you as well. The current one is just helping me decide something.  
**

**District 9**

_I cannot believe they brought my brother with them to say goodbye. Look at him…he doesn't even care. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. _Aluma thought, glowering at Barley. Heck, he didn't even seem to be aware of his surroundings.

She turned her attention to her parents. Her mother was crying. As for her father…she had never seen him look more upset. Actually, it was kind of weird to see him without a smile on his face.

"We never should have made you take out tesserae." Omri was saying.

Aluma shrugged, unconcerned. "Eh. It's too late now."

Zea stared at her daughter, shocked. "Honey, don't you realize what's going on? This is the last time we might see you! You're going into the Hunger Games…" She reached up and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

Aluma felt a flash of annoyance. "No kidding," She snorted, "Couldn't have figured that one out on my own. Now stop talking like I'm already dead, cause I'm not!"

Barley let out a random chuckle and she turned to glare at him with her good eye. She had half a mind to start a fight, but her father's strong hands pulled her into an embrace.

"Sweetheart, she's not trying to upset you," He murmured, holding tightly to a fidgeting Aluma, "We're just all very sad to see you go away."

"I don't want to go away." Aluma admitted, suddenly feeling very young and pathetic. She wished her father would let go of her already. When her family was finally escorted from the room, she kept a clear face. There would be no crying today. The Games weren't for another few days. She would make sure to live each of those days to the fullest. _Then _she would worry about the competition.

"Aluma!"

Her three friends hurried into the room next. Aviva was crying. Goren and Rye looked upset as well, but not nearly as distraught as her.

"Hey Aviva," Aluma said blankly, "Sorry for yelling at you earlier and running off like that."

Aviva shook her head furiously, droplets scattering as she did so. "No, don't be! It's in the past."

"Of course it is." Aluma smiled a bit. She looked at her two male friends. "No need to look so serious, guys. Go on Rye, start cracking some jokes."

Rye just blinked. "I think now is hardly the time for a joke."

"Well excuse me for wanting to remember my friends as they were…and not some hysterical, sobbing mess." Aluma growled, signaling to Aviva.

"I'm sorry!" Her friend bawled.

"Aluma…you'd better take the Hunger Games seriously." Goren cautioned, "We want you coming home. Y—"

"Yeah, okay, sure. I'll do my best." She said, crossing her heart and rolling her eyes sarcastically. "Of course I'm gonna try and come home, Goren. There are just twenty-three other kids saying the same thing. Twenty-three other kids with two working eyes."

"You never change…" Goren scowled.

"Aluma, you don't know that for sure," Rye said quietly, "Maybe the twenty-three other kids have _no _working eyes. Maybe they're all crippled."

Aluma laughed, relieved to crack the tension, "Well, I'll be crossing my fingers!"

Her three friends each said their last goodbyes. Aviva never stopped crying and the other two seemed as if they would join her any moment. Aluma was relieved to see them go before they could flood the room. When they were gone, she told herself to stop thinking about the Games. She still had a few days to enjoy herself. And that's exactly what she would do.

* * *

Rowan slouched in a dark corner of the cramped room, hopelessly alone and depressed. Even when his family showed up to say goodbye, his sense of isolation didn't lessen. He felt like a caged animal coming to be gawked at. He hated it.

For a moment, they didn't see him hunched in the corner. They glanced around in confusion while he remained where he was. Then Maci spotted him and came over, grabbing his hands and trying to drag him to his feet. He didn't offer any resistance.

"Tell Hickory I said goodbye, won't you?" Rowan said in a flat voice.

"You can tell himself yourself when you get back." Maci spoke in a trembling voice.

He rolled his eyes, despising her forced optimism. "Yeah, because I surely have a chance at winning the freaking Hunger Games. Open your eyes, will you? Have you even _seen _some of the monsters the Career districts have produced in the past?"

Maci was crying now. Amber stepped forward and put an arm around each one of her children. "Stop that," She chided gently, "I don't want any fighting."

Rowan opened his mouth for a retort. After all, fighting was all he was going to be doing in the next few days. Fighting for sponsors, fighting trainers, fighting for his life in the arena. Before he could point this out, however, his father cut in.

"Maybe you aren't on the same skill level as a Career," Benner said in a slow voice, "But you can wield a kama with the best of them. How many other tributes do you think will have such experience?"

"They all must have something going for them," Rowan argued, turning away what little hope existed, "District 7 always seems to know how to use an axe and District 3 is really smart…" He faltered slightly, his mind going blank. He didn't know enough about the other districts to deduce what they could do.

"We have less than a minute!" Amber said in alarm.

Rowan's family each took turns hugging him, saying goodbye and good luck. "Bye." Rowan muttered, doubtful that he would see them again. He watched them go out the door one by one. Maci left last, her blonde hair whipping around the corner and disappearing from sight. The door closed and Rowan just stood there, staring at the spot his family had stood moments before.

Not even five seconds later, Ruse burst into the room, out of breath. Rowan was relieved to see he held no grudge over what happened earlier.

"I've got a plan that just may help you win the Games." Ruse said, stepping forward and grinning.

Rowan arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Oh yeah? Let's hear it."

Ruse hunched over, contorting his face into an ugly grimace. "Hnnghhh…" He grunted, flapping his arms, "I have problems!"

Rowan just squinted at his friend uncertainly, trying to figure out when he had lost it.

Ruse straightened up and declared, "Pretend to be mentally handicapped! That's what I would do."

"Dude, that's not cool." Rowan growled, shaking his head, "And there's no way I'm doing that."

Ruse shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just remember what I said earlier."

"What did you say earlier?"

"…Oh, maybe I thought it. I don't know." Ruse said, scratching his head, "Something about not getting angry enough to sock someone in the face. Because if you do that to one of those crazy Careers, they'll take it out on you in the arena."

"I'll keep that in mind," Rowan said dryly, but he knew he couldn't really help it. Punching an idiot in the face was just a gut reaction of his.

"Anyways, I bought this for you." Ruse produced a chocolate bar from his back pocket. It was in a light purple wrapper that read, 'dark chocolate with almond bits.' His favorite.

Rowan finally allowed himself a smile. "You _bought _it?" He snorted, gratefully accepting the parting gift.

"More or less." Ruse laughed.

"Thanks Ruse." Rowan said, giving his friend an extremely awkward half-hug. "I promise I'll try and come back."

Ruse didn't return it, squirming his way towards the door. Before leaving, he stood there and looked back at his friend, peering through the shaggy curtain of hair in his face. "Good luck," He told Rowan, "Don't make me regret this."

"Regret what?" Rowan wondered, but Ruse had already left. He looked at the candy in his hand. "…Regret stealing the chocolate bar?" Then, a moment later, it hit him. _Don't make me regret not volunteering for you. _Rowan snorted. It was either Ruse or him, and frankly, he preferred it to be him. Maybe it was selfish to prefer death to watching your best friend die, but at least he didn't have to admit it to anyone.

As Peacekeepers appeared to take Rowan to the train station, he acknowledged that he would most likely die while in the Hunger Games. _But, _He told himself, drawing comfort from an old expression, _Better to die after a short, compelling life than continue living a long, tedious one that leads to nowhere._

**District 10**

After the Reaping, Claire had been led inside the Justice Building and forced into a tiny room that stunk of meat. Then again, every populated part of the district smelled like this. She wanted to go home, where the air was cleaner, where there was grass beneath her feet. For all she knew, she wouldn't see grass again until she got to the arena.

"Claire!" A high-pitched shriek gave her a scare as Demi exploded into the room and threw herself into her older sister's lap, crying, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I never meant any of the stuff I said last night. I never wanted this!"

"It's okay…" Claire said in a comforting voice, holding Demi close, "We fight all the time. It doesn't mean we love each other any less. I know that."

Arms snaked around Claire's torso, trying to get in on the hug. She looked fondly a Noah, who was crying so hard that he couldn't produce words. Their father looked more fatigued than ever, quiet tears streaming down his face. He sat down next to Claire and held the three members of his family.

Claire closed her eyes, forcing back tears. She would not cry in front of them. Taking a deep breath, she locked away her grief and said in a firm voice, "As long as everyone else is safe, I don't mind."

_I'm lying._

"Would you have been upset if I had tried to volunteer?" Demi wondered, wiping at her eyes.

"I wouldn't let you. I wouldn't have let _anyone_. Always put the needs of others first." Claire replied, reciting a line she had told her younger siblings time and time again.

_You didn't even try to volunteer. After all I've done for you. You didn't even try._

Claire pushed away her inner demons and tried to show sympathy for her weeping sister. She tried to show them she wasn't afraid, even though she was petrified on the inside. When Noah looked at her with wide, brown eyes, she felt as if her heart would break.

"You…you were…Mom…" He choked out, rubbing his eyes.

"Shh…" Claire whispered, hugging him a little bit tighter. She understood what he was trying to say. She was the mother he never had. "I just did what I had to do to take care of my little brother."

"I love you, sis." Demi sobbed, "I know I never say it, but I do."

"I love you too." Claire said, looking at each one of them, "More than you can imagine."

They shared one last family embrace. And then it was time to go. Before heading out the door, Claire grabbed Noah and fixed his hair, slicking it back. "There might be cameras outside." She told him.

She thought she could detect the smallest trace of amusement in his eyes. But then he was gone, along with everyone else. Claire let out a heavy sigh, lowering her head. She knew no one else was coming. Even though she would have liked to have some friends to share this grievous moment with, she couldn't wait to get out of this stink-ridden room and onto the train.

* * *

Buck's life had just been ripped away from him, and on top of that, his pride had been damaged. Furious, he paced the length of the room he was locked in, like a caged lion. He had half a mind to start pounding on the door, roaring, "Open up!" but he knew that would get him nowhere.

The door creaked open and Buck whipped around, glaring at the Peacekeeper that poked his head in. Magus smiled sheepishly at him, hanging back behind the door.

"Hey Buck…" He said, clearing his throat, "Sorry about the Reaping. What bad luck! Well, anyways, I was thinking you wouldn't be needing all of that money you won earlier today."

Buck just lowered his head and glowered at Magus, who shrunk back a bit. "I spent it already." He lied blatantly.

"Okay, I expected that. How about this: I give you five seconds head start to get outta here and you give me all the money."

"I ain't no fool!" Buck spat. He knew running would get him nowhere. Wherever he went, the Peacekeepers would just hunt him down. "And I said I spent it already! You goin' deaf?"

Magus sighed. "Fine, fine, I give up. Good luck in the Games, Buck. You're gonna need it."

The door silently clicked shut behind him and all of Buck's anger drained away. He wasn't usually on good terms with the Peacekeepers, but Magus was one of the more tolerable ones, despite his greedy ways. He and his pals would no doubt be missing the shady little booth he ran in the corner of the market, after he was gone.

A minute later, Magus opened the door again. But he didn't say anything. He just held it ajar, watching silently as Ram wheeled Buck's grandmother into the room. Once they were situated, he left them in peace.

Buck's grandmother looked pleasantly surprised to see him. "Bucky, what're you doin' here?"

"I was reaped, Gram," Buck said sourly. His grandmother's memory wasn't what it used to be, so he often had to recount events for her. He certainly wasn't in the mood to do so now and relive the whole experience.

"No!" His grandmother gasped, her mouth popping open in horror, "No, my Buck's a good boy! Why would they pick you?"

Buck gave an angry shrug. "It's all random. Guess it was just my lucky day." He said sarcastically.

She reached forward and clutched at Buck with her constantly trembling hands, her face drooping with sorrow. Buck shot a sideways glance at Ram, a bit annoyed with him for bringing her. She didn't need this kind of stress. Hopefully, she'd forget about it in due time, though she'd probably be wondering where Buck was for the rest of her life. It was a sad scenario and it pained him to envision it.

"Wish I coulda done somethin' to help," Ram said, shoving his hands into his pockets and frowning, "It'll be strange not havin' you round the market."

"Looks like you'll have to find yerself a new partner in crime." Buck muttered. The image of Evangeline talking to Ram flashed in his mind. He thought of confronting his brother about it, but he bit his tongue. What was the point? He and Ram had always had their differences. Now was not the time to bring those up.

Ram suddenly stepped forward, his eyes burning with emotion. He placed both of his hands on Buck's shoulders and said in a rough voice, "Give them hell, little brother. Show them District 10 isn't one to be underestimated."

"Sure thing, Commander." Buck said dryly, giving his brother a salute.

Ram backed off, straight-faced and serious. Buck's grandmother finally broke down and Ram had to wheel her from the room, weeping. Buck watched them go. _Least Ram won't have to watch his stupid little brother's back anymore… _He thought grumpily, _Can finally find himself a girl._

Speaking of girls, Darby was his next and last visitor. Buck tried to straighten up and flash her a confident grin, but it was harder than he thought it would be. It didn't help that there were tears running freely down her face.

"Oh, Buck." Was all she could say, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him.

Buck just sighed and dropped the casual façade. He patted Darby on the back. "Don't you worry bout me, Pickett. Say goodbye and get on with yer life." He gently pushed her away, reached into his pocket, and fished out his share of the money.

"I don't want it!" Darby protested as he forced it into her hands.

"Well what good is it gonna do me?" Buck snorted, "Ain't nearly enough for a sponsor. An' I don't think I can buy my way into the Cornucopia to get a weapon."

"Stop it." Darby sniffled, but she accepted the money.

When it was time to go, Buck turned his face away, refusing to watch the door shut behind her. There was a soft 'click' and then nothing. Just silence.

Buck just shook his head tiredly and muttered, "It's every man for himself now."

**District 11**

"Quinoa where _were _you?" Quinoa's mother cried out, bursting into the room. Her face was full of panic and tears streaked her face. She swept forward and snatched her daughter into an embrace. "I was so worried!" She sobbed, "I thought I'd lost you…and now I really have!"

This was new. Her mother had always hidden her worries from her children—now she was an absolute wreck. And her tears were contagious. The noisy, crowded room overwhelmed Quinoa and she began to cry as well. The flood of emotion only made her feel slightly panicky, but she couldn't stop.

"They're not gonna get away with this!" Milo, her 21-year old brother, was striding about the room, looking furious.

"Nothing can be done." Rhye, the youngest brother, pointed out quietly.

"There's always something that can be done." Barley, the middle brother, said ferociously. A rebellious spark lit up his eyes. Barley was an incredible leader, always able to stir people into action. Quinoa feared for him because of it.

"Don't do anything that might get you killed!" She cried out.

"I won't." Barley reassured her, but she could see his thoughts were somewhere else.

Quinoa pressed her mouth into a thin line, feeling frustrated. "If there's anything that can be done…_I'll _do it."

"What do you mean?" Quinoa's father said, looking immensely concerned.

"I'll be up onstage for my interview. I'll let the Capitol know that they're wrong." Quinoa muttered, but even as she said it, her voice faltered. The thought of speaking to thousands of people, all over the nation was petrifying. But at the same time, determination burned within her, surprising even herself.

"Just be careful!" Her mother said tearfully, squeezing Quinoa so hard she couldn't breathe.

Her father joined in, murmuring, "We love you so much."

One by one, each of her brothers gave her a hug as well, saying goodbye. Milo hesitated when it was time to say goodbye. Instead, he reached into a small pouch he carried and pulled out a simple cornhusk doll.

Quinoa's voice caught in her throat at the sight of it. It was a doll her brothers had made for her years ago. Her mother had sewn the doll's plain white apron and her father had painted on the face. It was the combined effort of her family to make her happy.

She swallowed and asked in a thick voice, "You…when did you…?"

"I've brought tokens to the Reapings for the past ten years, in case one of us was reaped." Milo said, smiling gently, "Here, take it."

Quinoa took the doll from him and pressed it to her chest, immediately feeling a sense of comfort. Then the door opened, signaling their time together had ended. Her family turned to go as a Peacekeeper appeared to usher them out.

"No…!" Quinoa choked out, sadness washing over her once more.

Milo turned and strode back to her, enfolding her in his arms one last time. "Goodbye, Quinoa." He whispered into her hair, "Take care of that doll."

Then he was jerked away by a Peacekeeper, who led her family from the room. Quinoa sunk slowly to the floor, once again biting her nails in fear of what lay ahead. She continued to tear at them until it was time to go; until they ran red with blood.

* * *

It seemed surreal that Al had been reaped. All these years, he had never taken it too seriously. He never thought it could actually happen to him—it was the sort of thing that happened to someone else, someone you didn't know. The whole thing was pretty shocking.

Al's parents came first. Melanie's pretty gray eyes were wide and filled with worry. "Oh, how could this have happened…" She said shakily, grabbing Al's head and hugging it to her.

"Ma, you're squeezin' my skull…" He said, trying to make his voice sound light. He struggled out of her grip and stood up so she could give him a proper hug. "You're gonna kill me before I can even get to the Games!"

"Al, don't say that!" She shrilled, latching onto him once more, as if she could protect him from death. She looked at her husband. "Dear, you don't think…?"

"No, of course not. They wouldn't know." Almond Sr. said warily, scanning the room for hidden cameras.

Of course, they were referring to their secret business. Paranoia always crept in the back of each parent's mind, and they couldn't help but wonder if this was punishment for all of the materials they had stolen.

"Al getting reaped has nothing to do with anything." His father said firmly, "If any of us were in trouble, this wouldn't be the way to go about it."

Melanie wiped her eyes and cast another nervous glance around the room. Al stood there, fidgeting, uncomfortable with the amount of grief radiating off his family. He tried to crack a joke about the Games, but it did nothing to ease the tension. Both of his parents were crying now, holding him one last time, telling him how much they loved him.

Al tried to remain strong, though his chin was trembling uncontrollably. He managed not to shed any tears until it was time to go. "Hey, I'll see ya when I get home!" Al called weakly after them, but he couldn't hope to believe that himself. He just wanted to do something, anything that would dry their tears.

Unfortunately, making it out of the Hunger Games was the only surefire way.

Beetle came in next, followed by Agatha. He was still shirtless—you could count the ribs that poked out of his chest as well as the number of scars on his back. Al considered making another joke, but he couldn't summon the willpower to do so.

Beetle looked at his friend, keeping a smooth expression. But then his eyebrows knitted together and he blinked furiously, to rid himself of the tears that were forming. "I don't know what to say, man." He said in a flat voice.

Al forced a grin and laughed, "That's okay…I wouldn't have volunteered for you either."

A sob shook the room and the two of them looked to see Agatha standing in the corner, tears running down her face.

"You promised not to cry!" Beetle said sharply.

"Aw, man…" Al said, his voice cracking. Tears finally sprang free from his eyes and rolled down his face. "Now you're makin' _me _cry." He tried to laugh it off, but it just transformed into quiet sobbing.

Beetle moved forward and gave him an awkward hug, patting him on the back. Al just stood there, shaking and sniffling, feeling pathetic for it. But Beetle said nothing for a minute, allowing him to let it all out.

Finally, he muttered, "You got my chest all wet."

Al backed off, wiping at his face. Then he remembered his sunglasses, resting atop his head. He flicked them down, hiding his bloodshot eyes and regaining his sense of confidence. "That's what you get for not wearin' a shirt."

A Peacekeeper opened the door. "Time's up." He told them.

"Bye Al." Agatha said softly, giving him a quick hug.

Al returned it. "Take care of your brother for me, kid."

She nodded tearfully. Beetle and Al shared another quick hug, and then he was on his way. As he exited the room, Al glimpsed the scars on his back. He still owed Beetle for what he did to him. How could he repay that debt now?

"If I win," Al called out after him, "I'll share half the winnings with your family!"

Beetle paused and nodded. "Okay. I'll hold you to it."

Then the door shut behind him, cutting Al off from his last friend. Tears budded in his eyes, threatening to overwhelm him once more, but he locked his sadness away. And he replaced it with resentment.

**District 12**

Rina's only visitors were her dance crew. As they said goodbye to her, she remained oddly quiet. She refused to cry in front of these boys, lest she leave them a lasting image of her bawling like a baby.

"Wish there was enough room in here for one last dance…" DeNiro said sadly, looking around the cramped space they had been provided to say goodbye.

"It's okay." Rina said in a flat voice. No wonder she had felt so sick about going to the Reaping this year. It was like having one of those premonitions…she never believed in that sort of junk, but she hadn't been able to shake the bad feeling.

"That doesn't mean we can't sing," Andre said, looking determined to make Rina's day.

"Because singing's totally going to help the situation." Rina said sarcastically.

Andre shrugged. "It might…"

"Guys, stop." Chase said softly. "Rina, if you want us to leave, we'll go."

Rina bit her lip, feeling torn. Of course she didn't want them to leave. They were practically her family. She just tearfully shook her head, unable to produce any words.

She could see the concern in their eyes. One by one, they bid her farewell. Chase was the last one to do so. Without warning, he grabbed her face in his hands and planted a kiss square on her lips.

"I should have done that years ago," He said, drawing back, his expression filled with pain, "Bye, Rina. We'll be rooting for you."

Rina just sat there, stunned, her lips still tingling from the kiss. She said a dazed goodbye as they left the room. Once they had gone, she wiped her mouth, feeling a bit disgusted. Chase was like an older brother to her. She had never suspected his feelings, and if she had, she never would have acknowledged them.

_Well…now it makes sense, why they kept little old useless me around… _She thought bitterly.

Sighing, she brought her knees up to her chest, curling into a little ball. She expected the tears to come now. For sadness to wash over her like a wave. But surprisingly, it didn't. She felt numb. Numb to the world, numb to the Hunger Games, numb to her friends…

And that was completely okay with her.

* * *

Seyuto's gang came to say farewell. Or rather, they came to congratulate him on a kickass performance. He and Fires shared a high-five, while the other two praised him for a job well done.

"That was freaking awesome, man." Tiger said, sounding happy despite the permanent scowl on his face.

"Shucks…" Seyuto said, scratching at the hair on the nape of his neck, "Those suckas didn't even cheer for me or nothin'!"

"Screw them," Marth spoke up, "It's about what the Capitol thinks, not the districts. And the Capitol's gonna love you!"

"Yeah buddy!" Seyuto hollered, "Sponsors for the win!"

The four boys cheered, pounding each other on the back and fist-bumping. Then Seyuto paused, his narrowed eyes darting around the room.

"Hey…where's ma girl Thorn at?" He wondered.

"We couldn't find her after the Reaping," Firenze explained, "Don't worry, I'm sure she's on her way."

"Kay." Seyuto nodded, "Well, homies, time to get down to business. Fires, you da boss now, at least till I get back." He watched Tiger out of the corner of his eye for some sort of reaction, but there was none. Thankfully.

"Okay, bro." Fires said, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk, "Good luck out there."

Each of his gang said a quick goodbye and congratulated him once more on his strong debut. Then they turned to leave, shouts of encouragement ringing through the room. Even when the door shut, and he was left alone, he could still hear his friends hooting and hollering their way out of the building. Seyuto longed to go with them.

When things had quieted, Thorn made her appearance. She quietly came in and shut the door behind her. It was easy to tell she had been crying, but now she was trying to appear strong.

"I wish I could have volunteered for you." She murmured, gazing down at him.

"That woulda been lame," Seyuto scoffed. He knew Thorn would do anything for him, but he didn't like the idea of her taking his place in the Games.

"Maybe I could switch places with the girl that was reaped." She mused, her eyes widening at the idea.

"No!" Seyuto snapped, "Sheesh, what's wrong witchu? Then either one or both of us would be dead!" He shook his head angrily.

Luckily, Thorn dropped the issue. Instead, she began to pep talk him. "I know you can do this, Seyuto!" She said, starting to get excited, "You're tough. You know how to use knives. Heck, you ran away from home when you were only two years old! If you survived then, surely you can—"

"Thorn, I lied." Seyuto said abruptly, cutting her off.

She blinked. "What?"

All of his confidence melted away and he suddenly felt very tired. He ran a hand through his soft black hair, avoiding Thorn's eyes. "I didn't run away from home when I was two…I was dumped in a trash can by the orphanage."

"Oh." Thorn bowed her head, staring at the floor. She closed her eyes. "I still believe you can do it."

"Thanks, girl." Seyuto said, brightening up and giving her a smile, "You all right with me!"

She laughed at the flash of his old spirit. They embraced, Thorn whispering, "Show those tributes what being a District 12 Devastator is all about!"

As she left, Seyuto cheered, "Yeah, girl! I'mma sass they'a ass off!"

The last sound he heard was her tinkling laugh, then the door shut behind her. Ten more minutes passed and Seyuto waited in silence. Finally, the Peacekeepers opened the door and came in to retrieve him.

"Come on," One grunted, showing him towards the door, "It's time to leave for the Capitol."

**Favorite goodbye? I would prefer to answer you on PM but since you're a guest, I'll do it on here because I'm feeling nice. :P Um...not to favorite my own character, but Wiley's came pretty easily to me and I had fun inserting quotes. I also enjoyed writing District 1 (with the backstabbing Chardonnay) and a few other conversations such as Thimble's with Lacy, Rowan's with Ruse, and Seyuto's with Thorn.**


	11. Train Rides Part 1

**Guest, you're waaay over-analyzing. The numbers don't have anything to do with it. If they do, it's coincidence. And I wouldn't consider this a crossover at all...Lost just inspired parts of the arena, that doesn't mean the tributes are going to 'the island.' Some of the arena guesses for this year makes me think you guys really doubt my creativity. XD  
**

**300 reviews. :) I'm grateful, but I would like to say something regarding them. To those of you that leave multiple reviews on a chapter, do you think you could narrow it down to one? Since I'm moderating guest reviews I usually wind up forgetting about them and the queue fills up. I know you're just trying to get the count up, which is nice, but I still think we can reach 1000 without cheating. :) Besides, then I can easily go back and see who's not reviewing. And I won't get excited for nothing when I see eight new messages but all of them are from the same person. Thank you!  
**

**New poll! I think we all remember this one: Which lovely bachelor you would want to date! Sorry, gentlemen, but I'm pretty positive there are more girls reading this story. Do feel free to vote "screw you, I'm a straight guy!" if you wish. As for the results on which person you think will win the Games…**

**1****st**** Jade and Zale with 9 votes**

**2****nd**** Xander with 8 votes**

**3****rd**** Meredith and Rowan with 6 votes**

**4****th**** Ian, Piston, and Buck with 5 votes**

**5****th**** Sagitta with 4 votes**

**6****th**** Vera with 3 votes**

**7****th**** Viola and Seyuto with 2 votes**

**8****th**** Wiley, Spark, Isaac, Barrett, Athena, Flick, Thimble, Aluma, and Rina with 1 vote**

**9****th**** Claire, Al, and Quinoa with 0 votes**

**Train Rides are each about two pages but District 1 and 11 are longer than most because we get to hear from our wonderful victors. Yay!**

The car ride to the train station was painstakingly awkward for Jade. Ian's magnificent presence was difficult to ignore. It didn't help he refused to take his eyes off her. Every time she spared him a glance, his light blue eyes were boring into hers. Frustration overwhelmed her. She would _not _be intimidated.

As they exited the car and made their way towards the train, a flood of photographers surrounded them, snapping pictures. Ian smiled in a charming way and lifted an arm to wave, but Jade would not be outdone. She shoved in front of him, beaming at the crowd and waving enthusiastically. The escort had to practically drag them onto the train.

Once the doors shut, the noise faded. The train left the station and the escort wandered off, wondering where the mentors were. That left Jade alone with Ian. _Wonderful. _

"You must be so excited to have the honor of accompanying me to the Hunger Games—a shame we won't be able to share the ride home." Ian spoke in that delicious, low voice of his that Jade had been infatuated with in the past.

But she refused to let it affect her now. She ignored him. Ian didn't like to be ignored.

"I take it you're not too pleased about being in the Games with me," Ian sighed, circling behind her, "After all, I do know all of your weaknesses…"

Jade rounded on him, looking furious. "You don't know anything." She hissed.

Before she could react, Ian had slammed the full force of his body into hers, knocking her flat on her back. He pinned his body across hers, holding her legs and arms firmly under him. She struggled to free herself, but she couldn't move an inch under his weight.

Ian leaned his face closer to hers, smirking.

"I wasn't ready." Jade growled, tempted to spit on him. She hoped he couldn't feel her heart pounding in her chest beneath him.

"You're pretty strong when you're on your feet," Ian said thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side, "But you never were very good at wrestling, were you? What are you going to do if this happens in the arena, hmm?"

Ian's face was directly in front of hers now. So close she could have kissed him…

Jade narrowed her eyes. "This."

She thrust her head forward, driving her skull into Ian's face. He yelped in pain, drawing back. Jade struggled out from underneath him, but Ian quickly regained himself. He grabbed Jade's waist and pulled her down next to him, before she could get back on her feet. She struggled to fight him off, but her arms were too weak, and he easily overpowered her.

This time, he pinned her down so that she was flat on her face and had one arm twisted behind her back. Her joints screamed with pain and her head was pounding, but she bit her lip, refusing to show any signs of weakness.

"Like I said…" Ian panted.

"_What _is going on here?!" A stern voice demanded, cutting off whatever he was going to say.

"Channa!" Jade gasped.

Ian's weight disappeared and she was able to clamber to her feet. She faced District 1's most recent victor, brushing herself off. Ian stood next to her, not looking one bit sorry. Instead, he was eyeing Channa as if she were a piece of meat. She looked rather annoyed.

"Great, here I was so excited to be mentoring two competent tributes this year, and now look: you hate each other." She huffed, blowing a stray strand of brown hair out of her face.

"He attacked me first!" Jade protested.

"Save it for the arena." Channa rolled her eyes, "And even then, you shouldn't be trying to kill one another. You have plenty of other enemies to deal with."

Jade and Ian avoided eye contact while Channa looked at each of them in turn.

"Am I missing something?" She said, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

"You're quite perceptive," Ian said in a smooth voice, "Yes, Jade and I used to date."

"That explains a lot." Channa nodded, acknowledging the fact that Ian and Chardonnay were now an item. "Why'd you break up?"

"It's none of your business!" Jade snapped before she could stop herself. Channa shot an angry glare in her direction and she immediately regretted her action. She admired Channa greatly—she didn't want to be on her bad side. So she bowed her head respectfully and muttered, "He just…wasn't my type.

Ian let out a rude laugh. "FYI: I'm everyone's type. And for the record, _I _broke up with _her_."

"Okay." Channa sighed, running her hands through her hair, "I know it's going to be awkward, but don't let it get in the way of your training. And certainly don't kill one another while you're in the Games. Killing your own district partner isn't going to earn you any fans back at home. Got it?"

"Got it." Ian and Jade said in unison.

"Shake on it." Channa said sharply, eyes flickering with suspicion.

Ian and Jade faced one another. He smiled at her, almost innocently. "Partners?" He asked, reaching for her hand.

"Partners." She agreed, allowing him to take it. They held on for a moment; then let go.

Channa seemed satisfied enough, a happy smile alighting her features. "Great!" She said, clapping her hands, "Now let's watch the recaps and see your competition for this year!"

"So…will you be joining the Career pack?" Ian wondered as they settled down in front of the TV.

Jade tried to regard him as an ally now, instead of an ex. It was much easier if she looked at him in this new light. "Yes, I am." She said curtly, "Even though District 2 is full of bloodthirsty jocks and District 4 is a joke of a district…"

Ian laughed softly, and she felt a small glow of pride at his approval. "My sentiments exactly. Speaking of which…"

On the TV was the Reaping stage located in District 2. Currently, a tall, dark-skinned girl stood on stage next to a boy with black, spiky hair. He was holding the microphone and grinning like a lunatic. He was telling _jokes_. The three Careers just sat there, watching in shock.

"How do you get two District 1 Careers to work together? …Shoot one of them!"

Ian chuckled, "Ahaha, that is so true…"

Jade smashed her fist down onto the table next to her. Her face was red with fury. "How _dare _he!" She spluttered. "How dare that slime from District 2 insult _us_!"

"Not the wisest of ideas." Channa agreed, crossing her arms and frowning at the TV screen.

"You need to relax." Ian said, lounging in his chair.

Jade shot a glare at him, but said nothing. The next joke cut into their conversation.

"What's the difference between a District 1 Career and the rear end of a horse? …I don't know either!"

Ian frowned slightly, apparently not as keen on that joke, but Jade whipped around to glower at the TV. Everyone in District 2 was laughing at the expense of her own district.

"Oh, _no_ he didn't. I can't wait to meet this dork and really give him a piece of my mind."

**District 2**

Xander wasn't looking forward to being stuck on a train with Sagitta. He was still wondering why she refused to shake his hand—it had been embarrassing, really. He wasn't about to let her get away with it. When he saw her already on the train, staring out the window, he marched right up to her.

"Hey!" He greeted, trying to sound less annoyed than he was, "So you got something against shaking hands, huh?"

Sagitta didn't respond. A cold glare hardened her features, but she didn't turn away from the window.

"I'm guessing…germaphobe?" Xander joked, plopping down in the seat next to her.

Sagitta stiffened and leaned away from him. Grinning mischievously, he moved a little closer into her personal space. She was practically glued to the wall in her struggle to maintain her distance.

"If you hate germs, I don't think the Hunger Games is right for you. In case you didn't know, there's a good amount of blood-spilling going on." Xander said, trying to keep a straight face.

He waited for a response and got nothing. He swallowed his frustration, trying to keep from yelling at this mute girl.

"Sheesh, I didn't even do anything to you." He muttered, "Someone needs to get the stick out of their—"

"You want to know what you did?!" Sagitta snapped, rounding on him without warning. "You alienated our allies! Our relationship with those pompous District 1 tributes is bad enough to begin with. But then you had to go and turn the Reaping into comedy hour!"

Xander scratched his head, looking guilty. "Shoot, I never knew everyone would get so worked up over nothing. I was just trying to make an impression on the crowd."

Sagitta eyes were blue slits. "Well, you certainly did." She hissed, "And probably the District 1 tributes as well. I hope you're not planning to join the alliance."

"As a matter of fact, I am." Xander said stubbornly. His guilt vanished and he suddenly felt defensive of his actions. "Even if they _are_ a bunch of bloodthirsty killers."

Sagitta wanted to go back to ignoring him, but she was too angry to do so. "Why would you even volunteer for the Games if you feel that way? God, your very existence is dropping my IQ…I can't believe this is my district partner…" She said, more to herself than to him.

Of course, Xander heard her. "I have my reasons." He declared, "And I know the Careers are my best chance of surviving if I want to come home. That's why I'll be joining them."

"Then you'd better have an extravagant apology prepared for when we meet them." Sagitta scowled.

Xander rolled his eyes and got up, unable to take Sagitta any longer. He moved off to find where they kept the grub. It was the cart over from theirs. The room with filled with all sorts of treats, many of them unrecognizable yet tempting. The mere sight of them lifted his spirits. But as he bit into a tart, his stomach suddenly felt sick. He was homesick.

_I wish Sev or Theo were here… _He thought, emotions sweeping over him. It would have been awesome to share this experience with them. Riding the train, eating delicious treats, touring the Capitol. It would be grand. Except for the part that came _after _of course.

He realized with a spark of excitement that all would be possible after he won the Games. This optimistic thought put a spring in his step. He scarfed down the delicious tart and went back for seconds.

Back in the other room, Sagitta was feeling beyond irritated. She should have expected this from some idiotic teenage boy. She had thought he would at least have his wits about him. How quickly he had proved her wrong.

She knew a good number of the Careers from past Games, having attended the most esteemed training academy in the area alongside them. She didn't like any of them. But she would have rather had the emotionless Bridon as a partner than Xander. Even if he wasn't the brightest, at least he understood death was a casual thing. People died all the time; what did it matter if you killed a few more?

_Oh well. Even if he's useless, at least I'll get some enjoyment out of watching him die. _Sagitta sighed, settling back in her chair and closing her eyes.

A few minutes later, Xander crept back in, holding a glass of mango juice in his hand. He noticed Sagitta snuggled in her chair, her eyes shut. He cleared his throat quietly, waiting for some sort of reaction. There was none.

Grinning evilly, he snuck down the aisle and circled around behind her. He held the mango juice over her head, poised to pour it into her long brown hair. Just as he started to tip the cup, a little voice inside him said _wait_.

He paused, considering his actions. _Better not._

Drawing back and sipping from the cup, he slunk to the other side of the train. He sat in a chair, feeling bored. There he waited, wondering when the mentors would show up and tell them all about the Games.

**District 3**

Wiley stumbled onto the train, finally starting to calm down. He had accepted the fact there was no getting out of this. He was just going to have to take the hand he'd been dealt. Luckily, he had his brilliant mind to formulate some sort of master plan that would no doubt get him home. But before he could put his brilliant mind to use, he would have liked to find an ally first.

He glanced around the compartment, looking for the female tribute. He spotted her near the back. Her knees were drawn up to her chest and her head was bowed, hiding her face from view. He approached her, smiling in a friendly manner.

"Hello!" He greeted in a voice cheerful as day.

Spark lifted his head to look at him. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face stained with tear tracks. Her nose was running as well.

"Oh God, you look _terrible_." Wiley blurted out before he could stop himself.

She fixed him in an icy green glare, wiping at her face.

"Um—good. Looking good actually." Wiley quickly recovered, "Anyways, are you…okay?"

"Oh yeah, just fine, actually." Spark said in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "Just watched my entire life collapse around me, no big deal. Never going to see my family again. Never going to see what I got on my report card. Never going to get around to all of those books I wanted to read. Just _perfect_."

"Oh, good. Glad you're feeling better." Wiley said in a cheerful voice, "Now that that's out of the way, I was wondering if you'd, you know, like to form an alliance with me?"

Spark just stared at Wiley, her gaze boring into him. He shuffled around uncomfortably, waiting for her to say something. "Why do you have a Capitol accent?" She asked, screwing up her nose in distaste.

"Oh, that," Wiley waved a hand dismissively, "My dad's always traveling, he does all this fancy research n' stuff. The Capitol funded him for a while, but not anymore…err, for reasons that don't concern you. Anyways, must've picked it up from him, I suppose. Enough about that, d'you wanna join an alliance with me?"

"That's ridiculous," Spark scoffed, "People pick up accents from their family, not from work."

"Well, he spends a good deal of his time working." Wiley said, starting to feel exasperated at her lack of response. "Do you understand what I'm saying? Is any of this—is anything I'm saying getting through to you at all…?"

"You'd better keep your mouth shut lest all the other tributes think you're trying to suck up to the Capitol." Spark huffed.

"Okay, lady!" Wiley said, throwing up his arms in defeat, "Look, I'll be honest. We're both gonna die. All right? I didn't wanna say it, but there you go, you dragged it out of me. _Dead. _But if we form an alliance, on the other hand, one us might actually—"

"Fine." Spark interrupted, rising to her feet, "I'll form an alliance with you."

"Brilliant!" Wiley laughed, wringing his hands together in delight, "Oh, that's great. Really great." He held out his hand, offering to shake on it.

"Hold it right there!" Spark said, jabbing Wiley in the chest with a finger. He shrunk back, looking alarmed, "If we're going to be in an alliance together, we're going to do this _my _way!"

Silence followed her words as she waited for Wiley to respond. He looked around nervously. "Umm…and what does that entail—?"

"That means keeping a low profile and keeping away from me during training. Don't talk to me at all," Spark interrupted, "District 3 has been doing terrible in the past few years. We're always one of the first districts out. This year, we're going to change that by not making ourselves a target. Got it?"

"Right. Got it." Wiley laughed nervously.

Spark backed off, still looking a bit disgruntled. She returned to her chair while Wiley stood there awkwardly, waiting for her to say something.

When she didn't, he asked, "Can I talk to you right _now_?"

Spark sighed, massaging her forehead. She could feel a migraine coming on. "I would prefer if you didn't. But if you must, go right ahead."

Wiley must have missed the first part, because he began to prattle on about all sorts of things, mainly his concerns about what they would face in the Games. His Capitol accent was grinding on Spark's ears, annoying her to no end. She squeezed her eyes shut and blocked him out.

Thankfully, it was a short ride to the Capitol.

**District 4**

"Zale, I'm sorry for the comment I made about your sister yesterday. It was wrong of me."

As soon as Zale had boarded the train, Meredith had stepped in front of him and apologized. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He searched her expression, looking for any trace of deceit, but he found none. Her face was smooth and serious.

Zale blinked away his shock. "It's fine," He muttered, passing her by, "It feels like it was years ago anyways."

Inside was a group of mentors, waiting for them. They appeared to be having some sort of argument. Upon seeing the two tributes approach, they became silent. Zale looked at each one in turn.

"What's going on?"

"We're just having a meeting," Victor Lynn said quickly, "You two stay here and watch the recaps. We'll be back later." With that, their mentors swiftly left the compartment, headed off to a different sector of the train.

Zale cast an inquiring look towards Meredith. "Any idea what that was all about?"

"They're deciding how much leeway to give to my aunt when it comes to mentoring. If she shows too much preference towards me, it could get her in trouble." She answered, leading the way to where a flat screen TV contained images of District 1's Reaping.

"Oh yeah," Zale said dully, "Favoritism is a wonderful thing, isn't it?"

"I won't be needing my aunt's _favoritism _to win the Hunger Games." Meredith said in a soft, dangerous voice. "As far as I'm concerned, they can take away all of her rights to handle the sponsorships and whatnot. It won't make any difference."

The faintest of smirks creased Zale's face. "That's quite an ego you have there."

Meredith didn't react, allowing a few seconds of silence to pass between them. "Does it matter?" She said, sounding bored.

Zale felt a prick of annoyance due to her lack of a reaction. "No, I suppose not." He said curtly.

With that, the two of them turned to the TV, analyzing their competition. Along with the actual film from the Reaping, Caesar Flickerman was there to give comments on each tribute. Profiles were put up on the screen as well, containing the tribute's name, age, and district.

Throughout the broadcast, Zale couldn't help but start his own stream of commentary.

"District 1 never changes, does it? Just your usual pair of beautiful idiots. I hope they can actually be of some use to us. It's a wonder they make it more than a day in…here comes District 2. The girl looks rather formidable. So far, it seems like everyone's had a fair bit of training…what are you smiling at?"

Meredith's smile instantly dropped off her face and replaced itself with a glare. "I wasn't." She said in a flat voice.

Zale stared at her for a moment, scrutinizing her. Then he turned his attention away and muttered a few disjointed thoughts on how pathetic District 3 was.

Meredith silently chastised herself for allowing her face to break out in a stupid grin. Zale had just reminded her so much of Adrianne; how they would sit and watch the Games together, giving commentary. Adrianne would constantly prattle on while Meredith remained quieter, more attentive to what was occurring than her friend. She couldn't stop herself from feeling entertained.

During District 4's spotlight, she trained her eyes onto Zale. She had observed him enough in training to know what he was capable of. It was hard to tell what he was thinking…but she would be sure to keep an eye on him.

District 5 wasn't very impressive. District 6 was an odd combination with a large, brute of a boy and a tiny, fragile-looking girl. There were a few other boys that seemed rather strong, especially for being from the outer districts. She supposed it was thanks to the rough lives they led. She certainly didn't envy them.

Once the official recap had ended, they had one last summary with dramatic music playing as a quick shot of each tribute was shown approaching the stage. Meredith could feel her heart rising with excitement as the flaming title appeared: The 44th Hunger Games. She snuck a glance at Zale. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were glazed over, as if he were lost in his thoughts. He was considering his competition, analyzing them, ripping them apart in his mind…

Suddenly, she had a bad feeling about him.

If there was an ally she needed to fear, it was Zale.

**District 5**

When Isaac was aboard the train, he took one last look at District 5. A crowd of photographers and reporters crowded around the window while a group of citizens stood further back, gathered to see them off. Isaac searched their ranks for Gregory, but he couldn't see him.

Regret clenched his insides, making him feel sick. He never should have dumped that on Gregory. He should have known better—after all, he was in a relationship with Ivanka. But some sort of acknowledgement would have been better than walking out on him.

'I don't feel that way about you,' would have been less heartbreaking than the look he gave him. Isaac would have liked to talk to him about it if they had time to, but it was too late. The train was starting to move. If he ever wanted to see Gregory again, he would have to win the Hunger Games. And even then, it seemed unlikely his former best friend would want to see _him_.

"How are you feeling?"

Isaac turned to see his fellow tribute sitting a fair distance away. She appeared to be rather delicate, with her legs crossed daintily in front of her. Her navy-blue eyes were trained on him, unwavering. He felt uncomfortable under that stare, but he tried to remain polite.

"Probably not much better off than you." Isaac sighed, sinking into the nearest chair.

Vera blinked thoughtfully. "Isaac Ross, correct?"

"Yeah…what was your name again?" He said, feeling guilty for having forgotten already.

"Vera. Vera Neuros." She said, patting her messy bun into place. "So the goodbyes were tough on you, I see."

Isaac stiffened at the memory. He swallowed a few times, trying to calm himself down. "Yeah. They were." He said, his voice cracking.

Vera's eyebrows lifted with curiosity. "What happened?"

Isaac shook his head, cheeks burning. "Does it matter?"

"Sorry," Vera said curtly, "I just assumed you'd want to talk about it. It might make you feel better."

"No, no, _I'm_ sorry." Isaac muttered, always quick to apologize. He bowed his head, wondering if he should tell her. But what would stop her from judging him just as Gregory did? So he said carefully, "I guess I scared off one of my friends…got a bit emotional and he looked at me like there was something wrong with me. Then he walked out."

He expected Vera's expression transform into one of sympathy or maybe even disgust. But her calculating gaze remained. "Don't worry about it," She said in a flat voice, "There's something wrong with _everyone_."

For some reason, this statement sent a slight chill up Isaac's spine.

"Anyways," Vera said, clearing her throat, "I'm rather curious about your thoughts on the Games. Any tactics you have in mind?"

_I feel like I'm being interviewed. _Isaac thought dryly, wishing she'd leave him alone already. Keeping a firm hold on his patience, Isaac told her he was just going to focus on surviving. Then again, weren't they all?

"No alliances?" Vera asked, sounding almost disappointed.

"Err…no, I don't think so. Why?"

Vera shrugged half-heartedly. "I find alliances to be fairly essential to survival. Loners don't usually become victors."

"I'll figure it out later." Isaac muttered.

"Better sooner than later." Vera cautioned.

"Yeah, well, better late than never." Isaac retaliated instantly, "Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna try and get some sleep. It's been a long, awful day." He turned in his seat and faced the window so that he would no longer have to look at her. Guilt immediately gripped him for being so rude. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder and said, "Sorry for snapping."

"You're forgiven." Vera said lightly, though he couldn't read her expression to see if that were true.

So he turned away, staring out the window as the scenery rushed by. He slowly allowed his eyelids to droop. Sleep would wash away all of his worries. It would give him relief, if only for a few hours.

But as he tried to drift off to better places, he could feel Vera's gaze boring into his back, making sleep impossible to achieve.

**District 6**

As soon as the train took off, Viola went over and sat in the plush chair directly across from Piston. He straightened up, looking mildly surprised to see her. For a few seconds, they just sat in silence, goggling at one another. Then Viola blurted out, "Why were you being whipped?"

A crooked smile spread across Piston's face. "Ah, so you _are _that little girl that nailed Griffin in the eye. Nice shot, by the way."

Viola giggled nervously. "Thanks. So why were you being whipped?"

"Because I joined a rebellious union and _didn't freaking do anything_." Piston growled, hunching his shoulders. His brown eyes blazed with anger.

Viola didn't quite know what a union was, but she knew what a rebel was. She asked him if that's what he was.

He relaxed a bit and shot another grin at Viola. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. I don't care much for those stinking Capitolites, walking all over us like they do. Even if they have to hold the Hunger Games every year, I don't see why they couldn't give the rest of us a better life."

"I'm a rebel too!" Viola announced proudly, pounding her chest with a fist, "I'm the leader of the Rebellious Kitais! That's the group that saved you."

Piston's eyes widened almost comically. He just stared at Viola for a moment, completely silent. Then he burst out into a loud bout of laughter. He leaned forward, holding his sides. "Oh, that's rich!" He crowed, "The Rebellious Kitties. You are adorable, y'know that?"

"_Kitais_." Viola corrected, shooting him a glare, "How old do you think I am, five?"

"Well excuse me for not being well-educated enough to know what the hell a kite-fly is." Piston snorted, wiping at his eyes. "Ha, I needed that. Thanks, Viola."

"You shouldn't curse." Viola said quietly, feeling insulted. She took her group very seriously and she didn't like it when Piston laughed at it. But she decided to forgive him. After all, he was her district partner.

"You may be young," Piston was saying, "But you're pretty handy with that slingshot. Think you can hit a Career in the eye for me when we get to the arena?"

A tremor of fear ran through her at the thought of a deadly Career lumbering towards her with a spear. She had to remind herself that they would not hesitate to kill. Therefore, they shouldn't be shown any mercy. "Of course!" She said in a confident voice, giving Piston a thumbs-up.

Piston laughed again. It was a deep, jarring laugh that made Viola feel slightly uncomfortable. But she tried to keep a smile on her face.

When the older boy didn't say anything after that, she allowed her gaze to drift outside the window. They were leaving the barren, road-scarred landscape of District 6 behind and entering the mountains that contained the Capitol. Their ride would be a short one.

Suddenly, something green flashed by the window. Viola gave a start. _Was that…? _Giving a gasp of excitement, she pressed her palms and face to the window. They sped by another clump of green. Then another. Then the green blended together to form a sort of blurred wall. They had entered a _forest_.

"STOP THE TRAIN!" Viola screeched at the top of her lungs, leaping from her chair.

Piston gave a start, looking panicked. "Why? What's wrong?!" He demanded.

"Tell the conductor to stop the train!" Viola shrieked, running up and down the aisle, "Where's the escort?!"

At that moment, the escort appeared in a tizzy, his wig askew. "What's wrong?! Are you hurt?" He shouted, looking horrified.

Viola ran up to him and tugged at his sleeves. "I want to see the forest!" She declared, "Can you please tell the conductor to stop the train?"

The escort just looked at her, his mouth slightly agape. His eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. Piston found this highly entertaining. Viola had probably just taken ten years off the man's life.

"Wh-what are you…? …You can't be serious." The poor escort said, looking dazed. "What, do you think this is a field trip or something?"

"But-!"

The escort shook her off, holding up a finger to silence her. "Enough."

Looking dejected, Viola slunk back to her seat across from Piston. He watched her, trying to keep from snickering. He still couldn't get over the look on the escort's face. "Hey…" He told his partner, a bit of sarcasm seeping into his tone, "I don't blame you. Trees are _so _cool, aren't they?"

"I know!" Viola sighed wistfully, pressing her face to the window once more, "I wish I could go out there and touch them. I bet there are _loads _of spirits in the forest."

Piston just nodded, trying to pretend he actually understood what she was talking about. "Yeah, well, let's hope we don't have to join them anytime soon…"


	12. Train Rides Part 2

**I refuse to vote in my own poll because I can't decide. :P  
**

**District 7**

As soon as Barrett was on the train, District 7's escort approached him. She seemed especially nervous, hanging back as she addressed him in a falsely cheerful voice.

"Hello dear! I trust you've taken your medication today?"

Barrett's veins filled with ice. _How did they know? _Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Athena peering at him suspiciously. He didn't want her—or anyone—to know about his condition.

The escort must have read his mind because she went on to say, "We always do background checks on the tributes as soon as they're reaped. But I just want you to know that everything's going to be fine. We have medicine for you in the Capitol."

"You mean…I can take my medicine in the arena?" Barrett asked tentatively.

The escort's smile faltered. "Yes, about that…we contacted the Head Gamemaker—she's a very busy woman so it was a rather short conversation—and she said that she would have liked to see you _off _your medication whilst in the arena. You're allowed to take it while you're in the Capitol, though…"

Barrett's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, don't worry, dear!" The escort said quickly, "Your mentors and I are going to try to work with her. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see!"

Barrett wasn't too hopeful.

The escort stood there awkwardly for another moment. When Barrett didn't say anything, she turned to look at Athena. "As for you, dear, just keep doing what you're doing. The Capitol loves to see a non-Career tribute smiling instead of crying."

Athena grinned. "Great! I'll keep that in mind."

The escort made an exit after that, off to find the rest of their team. Keeping his head low, Barrett secured a seat on a comfortable couch as far away from Athena as possible. As if that made any difference.

"You have some sort of condition?" She called over to him, sounding nervous.

_She must think I'm some sort of freak! Especially after that panic attack when I was reaped! _Barrett wailed inwardly, freezing up on the spot. He pondered what to say. He was never any good at answering questions. Alpha and Omega always argued; shutting out any judgments he could have made on his own. Usually, he went with one of the answers the puffballs provided. Now, he was at a loss.

"Well?" Athena prodded, tilting her head forward, waiting for him to say something.

"I get migraines!" He lied, his mind moving so fast his mouth could barely keep up, "They're so bad I can't even do anything sometimes. I have to take medication to make them go away."

Athena could see straight through his lie. Barrett reminded him faintly of her father. He was tall and slender, with wide, sunken eyes that darted all over the compartment they were in. His black hair was greasy and unkempt. There had to be something he was hiding, something darker. Maybe he was bipolar. A shiver ran up her spine.

But she decided not to push him any further. "All right!" Athena said cheerfully, "I hope the Head Gamemaker lets you bring your medication with you to the arena! If not, maybe we can nab a few sponsors, eh?"

Barrett seemed to relax a bit. Athena's smile widened.

To her relief, he didn't talk to her much more after that. She still felt very suspicious of him and didn't want to form an alliance with someone who might be unstable. She didn't really want to form an alliance with anyone at all.

They watched the recap of the Reapings later on. Barrett just stared at the screen like a zombie, his eyes wide and unseeing. Athena tried to pretend he was just scared and _not _unbalanced. After all, one of the Careers on the screen could wind up killing them.

But when the District 2 male got up on stage to start telling jokes, she couldn't help but laugh.

"This guy's awesome!" She giggled as he made another crack at District 1's expense.

The rest of her companions didn't seem to think so, but that didn't stop her from laughing. She turned to Barrett excitedly.

"I have a few jokes too. Knock-knock!"

Barrett just stared at her. "…That's a joke?" He murmured.

Athena blinked away her surprise. "You're supposed to ask 'who's there?' I can't believe you don't know this! It's classic. Knock-knock!"

"Who's there?" Barrett said in a very quiet voice. Before Athena could respond, he let out a soft laugh and muttered, "Yeah, that's pretty funny. Thanks."

Athena clamped her mouth shut, frowning. "Actually…um…just forget it."

**District 8**

Thimble was rather ticked that she had gotten Flick for a district partner. She was hoping for someone a little more capable, since it was usually easier to befriend your district partner than other tributes. _You should be happy it's not Abbadon or Hapi. _She scolded herself, thinking of District 8's former male tributes. Now that certainly would have been interesting.

But it was hard to tolerate Flick. He filled the awkward silences with tapping his finger on the arm of a chair or humming a strange tune under his breath. It grated on Thimble's nerves until she couldn't take it anymore.

"That's enough!" She snapped, "You shut up right now unless you want a bloody nose. Got it?" Thimble raised her fist in a threatening gesture, to show she meant it. "You don't talk to me and I won't talk to you. Or else this is never going to work out!"

Flick wasn't afraid. The tiny girl before him was a rather laughable menace. "I'll do whatever I want…" He muttered defiantly, avoiding eye contact.

Thimble glared daggers at him. Flick was pretty tall for his age, but he had no muscles to boast of. _I bet I could take him. _Thimble snorted, crossing her arms.

Before she could test that theory, the escort showed up, looking rather disappointed to see them. "Such young tributes this year…" She sighed, "Oh well. We're going to milk this for all it's worth."

"Milk it?" Flick said, feeling alarmed. "Isn't that what you do to cows?"

The escort let out an ear-piercing laugh, causing Flick to flinch. Thimble was not amused.

"Oh, you're so cute." The escort said, patting Flick's head, "Keep it up and maybe you'll get a few sponsors. In the meantime, I think it's time we watched a recap of the Reapings…"

She turned on the TV for them and hustled from the room. Already, District 2 was on the TV. Thimble felt a small thrill of fear at the sight of them. District 2 had the reputation of being the most bloodthirsty district for a reason. Every year, it seemed they were always the ones to take out the younger tributes such as her. Just last year, a 12-year old was bludgeoned to death with a metal shield. It was awful.

Thimble shook her head to clear the horrible memory from her mind. Careers had no mercy.

As the Reapings went on, the tributes appeared to be less and less dangerous. She watched each of them with interest, wondering about their capabilities and whether or not they'd be open to alliances.

Flick, on the other hand, was extremely bored with the proceedings. He tapped his finger on his knee impatiently, waiting for the broadcast to end. He wished he had his piano with him, to let loose some stress. Playing in D Minor was a surefire way to clear out any bad emotions within you.

"Ha!" Thimble let out a derisive laugh, pointing to the screen, "Look at these guys! They're wimps. It's gonna be a short Hunger Games this year, that's for sure."

Flick glanced up to see what she was talking about. A list of the male tributes was displayed on the screen, with profiles to state who they were. Thimble was right—most of the boys were rather scrawny, himself included. But there were still a few guys that held their own at the opposite end of the spectrum. District 6 looked especially buff and Districts 9 and 10 seemed rather formidable as well.

He considered them for a moment, and then turned his attention away once more. His mind was more entertaining than anything on the TV.

They showed the list of females after that. The ones from the lower districts were all very pretty and Thimble felt a spark of envy. Luckily for her, she was placed right between Districts 7 and 9. The tomboyish Athena and the Aluma girl with the infected eye made her look a bit better. But her face alone still wouldn't be scoring her any sponsors.

When the broadcast was over, Thimble willed it to go on. She needed a distraction. She refused to let her mind wander to her family, lest she start crying in front of _Flick_ of all people.

But Flick could have cared less about what Thimble was feeling. His mind was a mess as he tried to sort through the advice Astron had given him.

_No alliances. Go where no one can find you. No humming. Take out anyone that comes close. _He repeated over and over in his head. _With what? _A voice interjected. _Whatever weapon I'm good at using in training. That's my number one goal right now: find a weapon in training. The rest can come later._

Satisfied, he allowed his thoughts to veer away from thoughts of the Hunger Games and returned to composing music in his mind.

**District 9**

Rowan just felt plain irritable when he was on the train. Aluma couldn't seem to sit still, pacing up and down the aisle restlessly. She went through a rollercoaster of emotions, lamenting her boredom one second, exclaiming how cool the interior of the room was the next. At one point, she had snapped at Rowan, "What're _you _looking at?"

"I certainly wasn't looking at you." He muttered, glaring at her. _Lest I lose my lunch, _He added silently. That eye of hers was disgusting.

The escort seemed to think so too. The stout woman seemed to be struggling for words, trying to put it as gently as possible as she avoided looking directly at Aluma. "The Capitol won't be wanting to see such a thing and we can't have our doctors performing surgery on you when you might…ah, you know. I'm just saying maybe it would be best if you wore an eye patch."

"What am I, a pirate?" Aluma groaned, "There's no way I'm wearing an eye patch!"

"It's might help with sponsors…"

"Screw sponsors!" Aluma growled. She reached up and lifted her right eyelid to reveal more of the infected sclera. She angled her head towards the escort, who gave a small squeak and turned away. "I've had to deal with this for three years. The Capitol can deal with it for a week." She released the eyelid and slouched in her chair, scowling.

The escort drew herself up, looking upset. "Fine," She said in a clipped voice, "I'll just have to talk to your prep team. Maybe _they _can do something about it." Then she whirled around and left the room.

Aluma turned towards Rowan, giving him the evil eye. "You got a problem with it too?"

Rowan narrowed his eyes. "I've got a problem with you talking about it constantly." He replied, trying to meet her gaze.

"I don't talk about it constantly!" She whined, sounding offended. "You just met me, so how would you know, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess I wouldn't." Rowan said, rising to his feet and heading towards where the escort disappeared.

"Where are you going?"

"Somewhere else."

"No kidding!" Aluma snorted, jumping up from her chair. "I'm coming with you."

Rowan groaned inwardly at her unwanted company. She followed him to his destination—the snack cart. Upon seeing the delectable spread of food before them, Aluma squealed and clapped her hands together. All traces of her previous irritation were gone. She descended upon the food as if she hadn't eaten for months.

_She must be poor. _Rowan thought, listening to her gush about the different types of desserts. _If a younger kid gets reaped, they've usually taken tesserae. _

A familiar scent hit his nose and he found an assortment of drinks lined up by the window. Hot chocolate, coffee, and tea were sorted into separate thermoses. Rowan grabbed one and sniffed it. Chamomile. Just like Amber used to make. He poured himself a mug, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out the chocolate Ruse had given him. It would go especially good with the tea. Besides, there was no point in hanging onto it. It would just wind up melting in his pocket.

"Come on, you've _got _to try this." Aluma declared, holding up a mouth-watering hunk of coffee cake. It was practically bursting with a succulent, white cream where she had bitten it.

Rowan just shook his head.

She spotted the chocolate in his hand and looked skeptical. "You brought food from home? Why would you want to eat that when you have _this_?" She motioned all around them.

"Because I'm not a Capitol-worshipping idiot." Rowan hissed.

Aluma's lips pulled back into a grimace. "You'd better watch what you say to me." She said in a dangerous voice.

Rowan didn't respond. Aluma turned back to the Capitol delicacies, enjoying them in silence. While she did so, Rowan sat down with his simple cup of tea and his favorite candy bar. He peeled back the wrapper and bit into it, crunching the almonds between his teeth and allowing the chocolate to melt on his tongue. He followed it up with a sip of tea. He closed his eyes, relishing the taste.

It almost felt like he was home again.

**District 10**

As soon as Buck was on the train, he got an earful from Claire.

"Look at you!" She burst out, setting upon him mercilessly, "Even if you're from the Tenderloin, that doesn't mean you can't brush your hair or wear nice clothes! Honestly! What will sponsors think?"

Buck just stood there, mildly surprised as she started brushing at his clothes. He wondered how she knew he was from the Tenderloin and realized the smell was a dead giveaway. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her tiny little hands and forced them away. "The hell do you think yer doin'?"

The tiny girl met his gaze, unflinching. "Trying to help you! You look awful."

"Yeah, well it's been a rough day." Buck growled, letting her go and running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. He stalked over to a fancy-looking chair and practically collapsed in it. Claire followed and daintily took a seat across from him.

"The escort had better get here soon." She muttered impatiently.

Buck shot her a glance. "Why you in such a hurry to die, cupcake?"

Claire's dark eyes widened furiously. "I am _not_!" She exclaimed, "I was just trying to make conversation! And don't call me cupcake or pipsqueak or _anything_."

"I ain't makin' any promises." Buck snorted. "So what're you thinkin'? You gonna go join an alliance?"

"Of _course _I will." Claire said, as if it were that obvious.

"That's stupid," Buck said, his mouth curling into a sneer, "Didn't you watch the Games last year? Everyone's gonna be pullin' the same stunt Kalin did. If yer smart, you'll steer clear of any suspicious characters."

Claire scoffed, "Why don't you keep your opinions to yourself? It's not like I'm joining the Careers. Those monsters can hardly be called people!"

"Kalin wasn't a Career," Buck pointed out, "But he killed that kid in the blink of an eye."

"…Yeah, well...people are just disgusting," Claire said bitterly, "Honestly, whatever happened to morals? The system has completely broken down."

Buck gave her a withering glance. "What tipped you off, genius?"

Claire's face reddened slightly. She was trying to come off as educated and proper in front of this Tenderloin boy, but failing. Trying not to appear frustrated, she just shrugged off his jibe.

Buck leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. He looked quite relaxed. "Time to throw your morals aside, sweet cheeks. If you wanna leave this place alive, I reckon you should look at the other tributes as if they were animals or somethin'."

"That's horrible!" Claire burst out, "You should never think of others like that. Their lives are just as important as yours!"

"Not from where I'm sittin'." Buck said flatly.

Claire lifted her chin, feeling superior. "You'll never get any satisfaction out of life if you feel that way," She lectured, "Just imagine living with yourself after killing someone. Doesn't that sound awful?"

"Can't be as awful as listening to yer yammering." Buck grumbled. He was quickly tiring of Claire's attitude. He stood up.

"Where are you going?" Claire asked.

"To take a piss."

Her nose wrinkled in disgust and Buck couldn't help but feel satisfied.

As he moved from the room, he called back, "Better loosen up on the morals there, honey. District 10 hasn't had a victor for a while and if I'm out early, yer all they have. The starvin' little farm kids are dependin' on you. Just remember that."

He heard a sharp intake of breath from behind him and he knew he had hit a sore spot. Smirking, he quickly made an exit.

Claire remained behind. She hadn't given any thought to what good it would do her district. She could only think about the kids she would be in the arena with. The kids that appeared on the TV during the recaps.

For a long time, she just stared at the screen, wondering how each one of them would die…how hurt their families would be when it happened. And she knew she couldn't kill any of them. Not even to help the underprivileged citizens of District 10. Not even to appease her unruly district partner.

She would cling to her morals until death—they were all she had now.

**District 11**

Quinoa was already on the train when Al walked in. She hadn't taken a very good look at him earlier on, so she took the time to observe him now. He was a bit on the short side for a guy, with a full head of wiry, dark-brown hair. He was stocky too, with a little bit of muscle tone, but nothing to brag about. A pair of sunglasses was resting upon a slightly hooked nose.

His head turned in her direction and he strolled over to sit next to her. "Name's Al!" He greeted casually.

Quinoa shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Um…my name's…Quinoa." She whispered shyly, avoiding eye contact. She clutched her doll to her chest, drawing comfort from it.

"What?"

"Quinoa." She mumbled.

"_What_?"

She repeated it in the same quiet voice and Al just stared at her blankly.

"Right. Gotcha." He muttered, but he still hadn't managed to catch her name.

Luckily, a distraction came along in the form of Kalin. He walked through the door, squinting at a clipboard in his hand. "Quinoa Rheape and…Almond Frezno Jr.?" He said, looking at each tribute in turn.

"Kalin, my main man!" Al said enthusiastically, rushing up to meet him, "You can call me Al. Oh!" He reached up and unclipped the bowtie from around his neck. Then he dropped it into Kalin's hand, looking sheepish. "That's yours."

Kalin blinked at the bowtie inquisitively, wondering what had just happened. Shrugging, he tucked it in his back pocket, saying, "Riiight…anyways, would you two like to get an early start?"

"Oh! Yes plea—"

"Yo Kalin!" Al said, cutting Quinoa off as he took a seat, "When I get a fancy bachelor pad in the Victor's Village, why don't you send some o' that crowd my way? It'll be great! We'll call it…Kal n' Al's Block Party!"

Kalin gave Al a withering glance. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Al chuckled, taking off his sunglasses. Quinoa could see that his blue-gray eyes contained a trace of sadness. "You're right," He told Kalin, suddenly serious, "I was just sayin' that to make myself feel better. So what've you got to tell us?"

Kalin gave a great sigh, looking very tired all of the sudden. Quinoa and Al exchanged a glance, realizing how awful he looked. Dark circles were prominent under his eyes and it seemed as if he hadn't groomed his hair this morning. Deep frown lines were etched into his face, lines that didn't seem to want to go away. He wasn't the same Kalin they had known. He was different from the guy that was always smiling and laughing on the TV, cracking jokes that sent his audience into hysterical fits.

Al, a reoccurring visitor to his late night parties, had never taken the time to observe the victor. Stealing his bowties and other household items had been much more important at the time.

"All right…" Kalin said in a slow, exasperated voice, "First things first, you're gonna need a plan."

"Already got one." Al said, "I'm joining up with the Careers!"

"No!" Quinoa gasped, looking horrified, "That's the worst plan ever!"

"She's right." Kalin said sharply, "You don't want to do that. Especially not after last year; they won't be taking kindly to outliers."

Al chuckled and snuck a mischievous grin at Quinoa. "That's why I'm not _really _joining the Careers. I'm just gonna pretend to be on their side so they won't attack me during the Bloodbath!"

"I hardly think that'll make a difference." Quinoa mumbled, but her statement went unheard.

"Look," Kalin told Al, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes, "If you _do _join an alliance, it needs to be with people you can trust. _Not _Careers. They'll stab you in the back as soon as they look at you."

Quinoa nodded, absorbing all of the information her mentor had to offer. Al, on the other hand, didn't make any promises. He had a plan and he was going to stick by it.

"Whatever you do, don't make any attachments." Kalin said, his face darkening, "Or that could really mess you up."

"Okay," Quinoa breathed.

Al just nodded.

"If you have to choose between running and fighting, always choose running. Always avoid conflict. And make sure to play your strengths up—whatever they may be."

Al grinned and cracked his knuckles, taking pride in his quick fingers. He was tempted to start bragging about his stealing prowess, but thought better of it and remained silent.

Quinoa, on the other hand, had to sit there and think about her strengths for a moment. _I'm good with ducks, _She thought, starting to feel hopeless, _I've wrestled my brothers before, but…I always lose. _She bit her lip nervously. This wasn't good. Not at all.

"All right," Kalin said, looking at each of his tributes, "That's all I can think of for now. I'm gonna go to the snack cart and get a drink. Any of you wanna come with me?" He tried to smile invitingly, but his smile was strange and empty.

"Nah," Al said, remaining in his seat, "Thanks, though."

Kalin shakily got up from his chair and made his way from the room. Quinoa felt a burst of pity as she watched him go. He must have been so nervous for them. She could practically feel his pain.

_Even winning the Hunger Games isn't a total victory. _She thought, feeling her heart swell with emotion.

Right before Kalin left the room, Al turned around and shouted after him, "Hey, Kalin! If I make it through, feel free to hit me up about that block party!"

**District 12**

"Hey girl, you betta watch out because Seyuto Yosuke Laresses loves like it ain't nobody's business!" Seyuto declared, leaping over the top of a chair and falling into it neatly.

Rina turned an unfriendly glare upon her district partner. "You know, you've got some nerve hitting on me."

Seyuto's arching eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Who says I was hittin' on you?" He said, rocking back and forth in his chair, pounding his fists on his chest in a strange beat, "Maybe ya hittin' on me! What now?!"

Rina's lip curled with disgust. "Yeah," She said in a sarcastic voice, "Because I'm totally into shrimps that don't even breach five feet. Are you sure you're even old enough to be here?"

"Yeah. I am." Seyuto replied, eyes sparking dangerously. But he remained calm. "What's up with yo attitude, girl? You lookin' for a fight?"

Rina smiled dryly. "Not a real one. I know you fight dirty, you little creep."

Seyuto sat there for a moment, looking confused. Then his narrowed eyes flew wide with recognition. "You're with the Demons! Dat fail gang in the warehouse!" Seyuto accused, pointing a finger at her.

"We're not a gang, we're a dance crew." Rina scowled, crossing her arms.

"You're a buncha same-aged peeps hangin' together. Sounds like a gang ta me!" Seyuto pointed out.

Rina found herself despising the way he described her group of friends. "Well, at least my 'gang' is respectable, with jobs! You ridiculous punks run around stealing, thinking you're hardcore when you're _not_."

"You don't know shiz!" Seyuto snapped. "Sheesh, Thorn shoulda volunteered for youz when she had the chance…"

"What?" Rina said, knitting her eyebrows together as she pondered his statement. "…One of your friends was going to volunteer for me?"

Seyuto nodded. "I wouldn't let her."

"Great," Rina said sarcastically, "Now I'll know who to thank when my guts are spread all over the arena."

"Don't sass me girl, don't you even know? Them otha tributes won't stand a chance when they see Seyuto!" He leaped up and began doing some strange robotic jig while beat boxing under his breath.

Rina leaned away, looking on in disgust at his lame moves. She would have loved to show him up, but it didn't seem to be worth the time nor the effort. So she remained where she was, waiting for him to finish.

"Look," She sighed, when he had sat back down, "I don't like you and you don't like me. But District 12 hasn't had a victor in a while and I have a life I'd like to get back to. So what say we put all our energy into impressing the Capitol instead of fighting, okay?" She held out her hand, trying to make peace.

"No probs! I love them Capitol peeps." He said, snatching her hand and shaking it vigorously.

Rina just stared at him while he did so. "You do?"

"Yeah. They got swag. And you gotta admit the Games are really cool."

Rina was tempted to give him a scathing comeback, but she had just finished saying she would pour all of her energy into impressing the Capitol. So she remained quiet.

Luckily for her, her interactions with Seyuto were limited after that. They watched the recap of the Reapings, discussed tactics with their mentor, ate dinner, and went to bed. It was a long train ride to the Capitol.

When they arrived, a massive crowd was waiting to greet them. The doors to the outside world opened and cheering filtered in. Rina hesitated to go out there.

Seyuto stepped forward bravely, casting a glance back at Rina. He was practically bursting with excitement. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he hollered, "A'ight, let's do this!"

Then he swaggered out of the train and onto the platform, sending the audience into hysterical screaming fits. Rina followed, putting on a fake smile for her fans and waving cheerfully.

Seyuto stopped quite suddenly and she nearly ran into him. Oblivious, he struck a pose and declared, "Hey all my peeps! It's time to make some magic!"

**We finally made it to the Capitol! Our tributes are all together in one place. We're one step closer to the Games!**


	13. The Chariot Ride

**Aaand here are the poll results for which bachelor you'd like to date:**

**1st Wiley with 7 votes**

**2nd Xander and Screw you, I'm a straight guy! with 6 votes**

**3rd Ian and Piston with 5 votes**

**4th Flick and Buck with 4 votes**

**5th Al with 3 votes**

**6th Isaac, Rowan, and Seyuto with 2 votes**

**7th Barrett with 1 votes**

**8th Zale with 0 votes**

**Needless to say, I was surprised. Zale with nothing? Wiley FIRST? Wow. I should extend my apologies to the guys who voted, there won't be a reverse poll, but you're free to leave a review on the lady you find most attractive. I'm just putting up random polls next because I should wait a little longer until the Favorite Character poll. Speaking of which, thank you for some of your suggestions! Up next, it'll be the favorite pet poll. Thanks to whoever voted in my insanely random one, it seems like most of you would prefer to be pigeons. I don't blame you, Sakuya Le Bel is one finea** bird and don't even get me started on that sadistic partridge...what's that, you say you picked it for the flying aspect? ...Oh. **

**Much love to the people whose life ambition is to hold an esteemed interview with Pig. This chapter is dedicated to your efforts.  
**

_Princess Jade Argent._

She had to admit, it had a ring to it, even if the costume was a pain to wear. She was dressed like royalty, weighed down by heavy furs and golden jewelry that dripped off her neck, arms, and ears. A crown bedazzled with jadestones brought out her eyes and her long hair fell down her back in waves.

Of course, Ian was nearly identical, only his crown shimmered with sapphires. Somehow, he still managed to have perfect posture despite the many layers of clothing weighing him down. He smirked at Jade upon her approach, looking her up and down hungrily. She tried not to wilt under his calculating gaze and gave him a confident smile. He returned it.

"The chariot awaits, your majesty." He invited in a smooth voice, offering her his arm.

She brushed past him, heading towards the long line of horses and carriages. "It can keep waiting," She muttered, "First things first, I want to scope out the competition."

"Then you may have the honor of accompanying me." Ian said grandly, swaggering alongside her. He truly fit the definition of royalty, but Jade told herself that she would not pale in comparison. Especially not when the rides began.

Other tributes loitered around the area, but the two of them only had eyes for their fellow Careers. They spotted Districts 2 and 4 standing near District 3's chariot. They had already met up.

District 2 was dressed like Spartan warriors with armor, helmets, and shields. Fake spears were clutched in their hands. District 4 was a good deal fancier. Meant to resemble the ocean's waves, their hair had been dyed a dark blue color with green-blue highlights mixed in. Their skin was a lighter shade of blue. Meredith wore a flowing gown that shimmered like a waterfall, transitioning to white at the bottom. Zale wore a cape with similar colors; other than that, he wore nothing but a shell over his crotch. If he was uncomfortable, he didn't show it.

Jade made a beeline for the four of them, Ian trailing behind her. He was looking forward to meeting his allies. He wanted to make sure none were as beautiful or refined as him, so he could nab all of the sponsors.

But before he could so much as say 'hello,' Jade was already forcing herself into their circle, rounding on the boy from District 2. "Hey!" She snapped, a rather forceful way to greet someone.

Xander's brown eyes widened in surprise. "Uh, hey—"

"Well? What have you got to say for yourself?"

Sagitta rolled her eyes. "I _told _you." She muttered, shooting a death glare at Xander.

"I don't have anything to say for myself," Xander said, frowning, "Seriously, I was just making some stupid jokes. You don't have to get so worked up over nothing."

"You're right," Jade hissed, "They _were _stupid jokes. And you'd better apologize right now or else we won't be joining the Career pack!" She pointed to Ian.

"…What?" Ian said, blinking in surprise. "I never—"

"I refuse." Xander said, narrowing his eyes defiantly, "You're just gonna have to suck it up, sweetie. I wanted to make an impression on the Capitol so that's what I did."

"There are other ways—"

"Like what?" Xander said, cutting her off, "Should I have gone up there and bragged about all of my achievements?" His voice jumped up a few octaves as he whined in a feminine voice, "_Hello, my name's Jade. I'm in the top of my class and the winner of the Snow Peace Prize three years in a row._"

Without another word, Jade turned around and stormed off. Xander felt a twinge of guilt, but immediately shook it off. He refused to apologize. District 4, meanwhile, was looking rather entertained by all of the drama.

Ian decided not to follow Jade. If he deserted the Career alliance now, his loyalties might be questioned during the Games. So he flipped his hair and sighed, "Women: can't live with them, can't live without them."

Sagitta stiffened up, looking furious. Without a word, she turned heel and quickly strode away as well, fists clenched at her side.

Ian frowned, looking slightly put out. "Well _she's _no fun." He said, giving a nonchalant shrug.

"Yeah, she's got some serious issues." Xander said, watching her go. "You probably just chased her out of the alliance with that comment."

"What is _with _your district partners?" Meredith spoke up, "Don't they realize they're throwing away their best chance at survival?" She shook her head, wondering if there was something wrong with them mentally.

"Looks like this is District 4's year after all." Zale muttered under his breath.

Ian and Xander looked defensive. Before they could say anything, Meredith cut in. "C'mon, we don't have all day. Let's get an early start so we can see all of the tributes. I'm sure we can make some initial observations that will help us in the long run."

As the small Career pack prepared to set off down the line, District 3 came walking up to their chariot.

Immediately, it was clear to see that the stylists from last year had most likely been fired. Both tributes were covered in shiny, spiffy-looking padding that almost resembled armor. There was a shallow hole built into each of their chests with a core that glowed on the inside, causing them to resemble robots being opened up. Wiley's core glowed blue while Spark's was red. A mass of wires that came out of their backs either connected to the core or inserted into various places on their arms. Last of all, they had light gray, metallic makeup with dark lines painted down their face from the bottom of their eyes.

_Of all the places they could have met up! _Spark scowled, despising the fact they would have to walk past the Careers to get on their ride.

"Remember what I told you." She whispered to Wiley as the pair approached them, "Act natural."

"Right. Natural." Wiley said, looking directly at the Careers. He raised a hand and called out a friendly, "Hello!"

Spark smacked her hand to her forehead. _No, you moron! _She screamed inwardly.

The Careers turned and gave them a blank stare, saying nothing. Spark waited for Wiley to speak up on their behalf. When he didn't, she looked over to see him retreating quickly in the opposite direction.

Without a word to the Careers, Spark ran to catch up with him. She grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around.

He was laughing nervously, almost hysterically. "Did you see that? That was bloody terrifying!" He burst out.

"What the heck did you greet them for?!" Spark demanded in a shrill voice. She wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him until his head rolled.

Wiley's brow furrowed. "You told me to act natural!" He said, sounding confused.

"I didn't realize your definition of acting natural was greeting a bunch of serial killers like they're your best friends!" Spark spit out through gritted teeth. She looked over her shoulder to see that the Careers had gone. "Come on, let's get to the chariot before you screw anything else up. Remember: Keep a low profile!"

While District 3 hunkered down in their chariot, District 5 was off exploring. Vera was only too eager to see the other tributes in the flesh. Isaac accompanied her, feeling uncomfortable in the costume they had been forced to wear. It was a tight, black bodysuit. Their stylists had told them it would light up once the chariot rides began, which he didn't like the sound of. But upon seeing a few of the other dreadful costumes, he knew he had nothing to complain about.

"Can we go to the chariot yet?" Isaac asked Vera.

She was currently observing a gangly boy that loitered near the District 8 chariot. His outfit was rather ridiculous. He wore a comically large blue bowtie. The loose part of the ribbon came down, wrapping around his entire body in a shoddy-looking tux.

He kept reaching up to tug at the bowtie, obviously thought better of it, and then forced his hands to remain by his sides. A second later, he would be fidgeting again, trying to loosen the noose around his neck. By the way he couldn't sit still, she surmised that he must have had a mild case of ADHD.

"Vera?"

"What?" Vera said, glancing at Isaac. "Oh, you can go if you want."

"Err…sorry," Isaac muttered, looking embarrassed, "I mean, we can keep looking. I was just thinking it might be time to start soon."

"They'll make an announcement when it's time to start." Vera said, looking around restlessly. Her eyes fell upon the District 7 boy next. District 7 had never been very creative when it came to chariot outfits. The boy was dressed like a lumberjack, with a flannel shirt and faded blue jeans. A prop axe lay discarded on the ground beside him.

He was standing away from the chariots, but his mouth moved as if he were talking to someone.

_That's interesting… _Vera thought, beginning to creep closer. A cold hand grabbed her arm.

"Don't," Isaac said, "…I don't have a good feeling about that guy."

"Fine," Vera said, relaxing in his grip. "We'll watch from here." Isaac let go of her arm and she tried to shake off her irritation. She wanted to get closer and find out what was ailing this mysterious boy.

Little did she know, Barrett was currently suffering from his schizophrenia. He hadn't taken the medicine the Capitol had provided him with and all of his hallucinations had returned. As for why he had refused to take it…

"The Capitol medicine is dangerous," Omega had told him that morning, monocle quivering indignantly, "Not like the stuff you're used to. If you consume it, your tongue will shrivel up and drop out of your mouth."

The very thought terrified Barrett. He threw the medication across the room where it hit a wall. Alpha, never able to agree with Omega, hadn't been able to put up a good enough argument on why he _should _take his pills. So Barrett decided to allow his friends to accompany him to the festivities. At least he wouldn't be lonely.

"Barry, you look just like a lumberjack!" Echo giggled, clapping her little hands over her mouth.

"I can't pick up the axe," Barrett muttered, distracted, "It's too heavy." He glared at it, hating the very sight of it.

"You know what you should do?" Omega said in a mischievous voice, whispering into his left ear, "Get that axe and hurt your district partner. Chop her head clean off!"

"It's not even a real axe!" Alpha scoffed, sitting comfortably on Barrett's right shoulder. The tiny pair of glasses resting above his mustache flashed in annoyance. "Besides, he's not allowed to do that until the Games."

"So what?" Omega replied, sounding annoyed, "Don't let that stop you!"

"You're not actually going to go through with it, are you?"

"Don't listen to him! It'll be fun."

"Now Barrett—"

"Shut up!" Barrett whispered in horror, clapping his hands over his ears. He looked around, wild-eyed. "Somebody's watching us."

Echo gave a small squeak of fear and went to hide behind Barrett, wrapping her arms around his legs. "Where?"

Barrett nodded his head towards two older tributes that were standing together and staring at him. They wore identical jumpsuits, but he couldn't place what district they were from.

"Oh…" Echo said, sounding less afraid, "I like the girl! She's pretty!"

"Let's get out of here," Barrett mumbled, struggling to pick the fake axe off the ground, "I'm going to the chariot."

Meanwhile, District 12 came walking down the line, wearing form-fitting coal miner uniforms. As they passed by District 6, Rina couldn't help but stop and stare at their fancy costumes. They wore tight blue outfits with a silky white overlay that actually looked like steam rising off their bodies. Along with that, they wore rustic-looking girdles, boots, and avant-garde headpieces that rested atop grease-streaked hair.

The large boy caught her staring at him and gave her a friendly smile. The tiny Asian girl had been chattering to him, then realized his attention had been diverted elsewhere. She turned to see Rina.

"Hi!" She said happily. Her gaze wandered to Seyuto and she said in wonderment, "Wow, Piston, look! He's almost as short as me!"

She hadn't meant it to sound condescending, but Seyuto shot her an intimidating glare. "Haters gonna hate." He shrugged and strolled away, flipping them the bird as he went.

Piston glowered at Seyuto's retreating form. "What the heck, man? She's only twelve! Cut her some slack!" He called after him, but the short 15-year old ignored him.

"He's just a creepy little punk. Be glad he's not your district partner." Rina said, pretending to gag.

Piston gave a hearty laugh. "Name's Piston. This here's Viola."

"Rina." She said, giving the two of them a charming wink.

Piston laughed again and returned it. For some reason, Viola felt a flicker of annoyance. "Piston, can you lift me up on one of the horses?" She said, grabbing his hand and tugging him in their direction.

"Not now, Viola," Piston said, not bothering to even look at her, "Besides, you might mess up your costume."

"But I _really _wanna ride one! I might not ever get to do it again!" Viola pointed out.

"So District 12, huh? What do you guys do again, harvest rocks or something?"

Giving an angry huff, Viola turned and stomped off.

"It's called mining coal, genius." Rina said, watching Viola run off. She pursed her lips, looking concerned. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. She's a bit of a dreamer." Piston chuckled, "Man, you should have seen her on the train ride…get this…"

While Piston relayed the story to Rina, Viola ran off on her own. If she couldn't ride her own horses, then she would go visit all of the other ones. She would make sure they each got their fair share of attention. _Maybe I can give them carrots! _The thought added a skip to her step.

Then something caught her eye and the carrots were completely forgotten. A girl with cream-colored skin and bright green eyes was standing by the chariot behind theirs. She was completely covered in leaves, except for her legs, which were clothed in brown stockings. The best part was that the leaves kept changing colors. They went from green to yellow and orange to brown and back again. Viola watched the process, mesmerized.

The girl turned and started to walk away, looking rather spaced out. Viola chased after her, struggling to catch up in her clunky boots. When she was close enough, she threw herself at the girl and wrapped her arms around her.

Athena gave a small scream of surprise and looked around wildly. When she saw the adorable grinning 12-year old clinging to her, she relaxed and smiled. "Oh, hello there. You scared me."

Viola gave her another squeeze then let her go. "You're a tree!" She practically squealed.

"Um…yeah!" Athena giggled.

"I like your tattoo. But why are you changing colors?"

Viola's words caught Athena off guard. She reached up and brushed at the birthmark on her face, wondering how to answer the question. She assumed everyone knew about the turning of leaves, but she stopped to consider Viola. She snapped her fingers and declared, "Oh, you're from District 6, aren't you? You supposed to be an airplane or something?"

Viola just nodded, patiently waiting for Athena to answer her question.

"I guess you don't have many trees there, do you? When the weather gets cold, deciduous trees change colors like this." She motioned to her outfit, "Then their leaves drop to the ground. When spring comes, the leaves grow back."

"What's a deciduous?" Viola breathed, completely in awe. "And what happens to the leaves when they fall off?"

Athena frowned. "It's a certain kind of tree. And usually we just gather them up and burn them or let them decompose."

"I bet the trees look really pretty when they all change together!"

Athena smiled gently. "They're beautiful."

"I wish I could see." Viola sighed wistfully, her eyes clouding with sadness.

Athena took a step back, striking a pose. "I guess this'll just have to cut it for you." She said, chuckling.

Viola smiled and hugged her again. Athena withstood it, patting the little one on the back. When she refused to let go, she looked around awkwardly. A group of people was approaching them. It was a prep team—they were guiding one of the younger tributes towards the chariot behind them.

The poor girl was wearing an extremely tight dress. A large and shiny pink bow was on top of her head. The ribbon trailed down and wrapped around her body to form the most uncomfortable dress in existence. She had to take tiny steps to get anywhere. When she arrived at the chariot, the prep team had to physically lift her up and deposit her into her seat.

Thimble sat there, feeling angry and awful about the embarrassing ordeal. She watched her prep team rush off, despising every one of them. She hated being poked and prodded by those glamorous fools. They couldn't stop complaining about her acne, saying they would have to take measures to make her more desirable. Hmph.

She shifted in her seat, wanting to get this over with. At the movement, her dress became a little bit tighter. Gasping for air, she looked to see that the bottom of the dress had caught on the edge of the chariot. It was pulled taut, slowly unraveling at even the slightest movement.

_Shoot! It must have gotten caught when they lifted me up! _She thought, terrified, _What will I do? I'll wind up naked if I move too much!_

Thimble forced herself to remain as still as possible. Then she saw Flick passing by. His costume was still awkward, but definitely not as tight. "Flick!" She hissed, keeping her voice down.

His sharp ears heard her plea instantly. He turned towards her, eyes wide and wondering.

"Go get the prep team! I'm stuck." Thimble said, pointing to her wardrobe malfunction. Her face was red with shame, but she tried to remain calm.

An odd little smile appeared on Flick's face. "I'm sorry. I'm not supposed to talk to you." He said faintly.

Thimble could feel her cheeks burning. "_What_?"

"Bye." Flick turned and walked away.

"Flick, get back here!" Thimble screamed. Unthinking, she took a step towards him furiously and the dress unraveled even further. With a small shriek, she snatched it in her hands and held it in place.

_Okay…it's only halfway up my thigh. As long as I stay like this until the ride is over, then everything's going to be fine. _She gave a frustrated sigh. _I hate this…_

Feeling triumphant, Flick marched off. He didn't really know where he was going. But it had been such a great exit that he didn't want to spoil it by sticking around. So he just wandered around in his awkward tux, humming a cheery tune under his breath. Nearby, he saw something strange sticking out over the top of a horse. It looked as if some sort of brittle plant was growing on its back. Overwhelmed with curiosity, Flick approached the strange creature.

To his disappointment, it was just a normal horse. A girl that was completely wrapped in dried corn stalks was standing on the other side of the horse, stroking its coarse fur.

She cast a shy glance at Flick as he strolled up to her. "Hello."

He just blinked at her. Well, there was nothing to see here. Just as he was turning to go, the girl let out a high-pitched squeal. The horse had craned its neck around to grab a sheaf of corn leaves in its teeth. Quinoa struggled to extract it, looking flustered.

Flick stepped over and easily helped her remove the leaves from the horse's mouth. Once she was free, she stepped back looking embarrassed. "Thank you." She mumbled.

"Uh-huh." Flick muttered. Then he turned and wandered off in the opposite direction. Quinoa started to follow him, her outfit rustling as she did so. Flick halted and arched an eyebrow in her direction. "Why are you following me? Don't do that."

"Oh. Sorry." Quinoa said, quickly retreating backwards.

She watched Flick go on without her. She buried her face in her hands, feeling frustrated. She wanted to ally with someone. Anyone. But she was too shy to ask. He was the nicest person she had met so far, aside from Al, who was a fairly decent guy. But he was joining the Careers and she wanted nothing to do with them.

Too bad Flick wasn't planning on joining any alliances himself-especially not with District 11 of all people. He wasn't too fond of the way Kalin had won last year.

"Hmph. And I thought _our _stylists were cruel." A cold voice said.

Quinoa turned around to see an older boy leering down at her. His eyes were chips of ice, shadowed beneath his tousled brown hair. He was wearing a strange outfit made of wheat. It actually looked pretty cool, with some neat designs running through it, but it had a gaudy tail that branched out at least three feet on either side.

Rowan looked extremely grumpy, constantly scratching at it. He glared at Quinoa as if it were all her fault. She reached up a hand and started biting at her nails to mask her anxiety.

"Fine, don't talk to me," Rowan sighed, looking depressed. He was used to girls giving him the cold shoulder. "Anyways, I was just wondering if you've seen my female counterpart." He paused, considering his choice of words. "She'll be wearing the same grotesque outfit as me. And she's got this nauseating eye problem. You can't miss her."

Quinoa just shook her head. Rowan gave a light groan, then turned and walked off to find Aluma on his own. He went all the way down to the end of the line, circling around the back of District 12's chariot. That's where he found Aluma hiding. She had mussed up her fragile costume quite a bit. Meanwhile, her prep team had straightened her strawberry-blonde hair; her bangs hung over the damaged half of her face, shielding her eye from sight.

"What are you doing? It's going to start soon." Rowan said.

Aluma looked at him, her good eye glittering with fear. "I don't want to go near the horses."

Rowan snorted. "You're afraid of _horses_?"

"You're afraid of horses?!" Seyuto peeked his head over the back of the chariot, letting out a derisive laugh, "What's there to be afraid of? They're so dopey-looking!"

Aluma shot a glare up at him. "Is it any of your business?" She snapped.

"It is if you're standing so close to my chariot!" Seyuto retaliated, looking annoyed. "You don't wanna mess with tha mastah! I got swag you wouldn't believe."

Rowan just stared incredulously at Seyuto, unable to find any words to describe his newfound impression of him. He reminded him of Hirott or one of his cronies. Pushing away the urge to punch the younger boy's face in, he ignored him and turned back to Aluma.

Her gaze was unforgiving. "You get out of here too! I'll come to the chariot when I'm good and ready, okay?!"

"Fine!" Rowan snapped, "I don't even know why I bothered looking for you."

As he stalked back to his chariot, he passed by a small group of Careers coming from the opposite direction.

"Move it." He growled, pushing past them without a second glance.

They barely paid him any mind. As soon as they saw District 10's costumes, Rowan's rudeness was completely forgotten. Ian, Xander, Zale, and Meredith all approached the pair of tributes, who were standing miserably in the confines of their chariot.

Buck and Claire each wore a toga made from raw steak, held together by a sausage link sash. A crown made of chicken bones rested upon their greasy heads. The two were spattered with blood and the stink of raw meat hung in the air around them. Buck held a fake meat cleaver while Claire held a mallet.

"Talk about meat heading to the slaughter!" Xander joked loudly.

"How unappetizing." Ian said, pinching his nose and pulling a face.

Both Buck and Claire glared in his direction, shifting uncomfortably in their slimy getup. Words of malice bubbled in each of their throats, but they couldn't seem to say them. These costumes left them without dignity.

"And you were complaining that they didn't give you shoes." Zale smirked, nudging Meredith.

"I take it all back." Meredith said, unable to tear her gaze away from the horrible outfits before her. "Let's get out of here before I lose my sense of smell."

The four Careers turned and continued with their tour. Buck just glowered at their backsides. "How nice for them they get to dress up like royalty and warriors." He spat angrily.

"Well…" Claire said, a shiver running down her spine as meat juices dripped down her back. "At least there's a bright side to all of this."

"_Bright side_?" Buck repeated, his face scrunching up with disbelief. "The hell are you talkin' about?"

"I mean to say, at least we're not dressed immodestly like District 4." Claire replied, starting to get short with Buck, "Didn't you see the boy was only wearing a clam shell?"

"I'd rather be wearin' a clam shell than a damn dead cow!" Buck growled, throwing his arms up. The movement sent blood flying every which way, splattering their skin.

"Watch your language," Claire said curtly, "And look, it made them pass us by, didn't it? If they hadn't left so quickly, you probably would have gotten yourself into major trouble, mister!"

"Wish I could stuff these sausages in my ears…" Buck mumbled, fingering his sash.

"What was that?"

"Nothin'."

Meanwhile, back at the front of the line, Jade was still steaming quietly in her chariot. She knew it was ridiculous to be so angry. It didn't help Ian hadn't sided with her. Didn't he take any pride in his district? Didn't he care when someone else spit all over it?

_I guess not, _She thought, feeling mildly hurt that he had abandoned her for them.

A few minutes after they left, she was surprised to see Sagitta approaching her. The tall, dark girl looked rather intimidating in her armor, but Jade faced her coolly, saying, "Can I help you?"

"I'm just here to say that I hate Xander too and if you're against joining the Career alliance, I'll gladly form a team with you." Sagitta said, speaking confidently. She lifted her chin and looked down at Jade, as if challenging her to say no.

Jade sat there, thinking it through. "I don't…I don't know." She said slowly, "I do think I want to join the Careers, but right now, I want to be alone. Thanks for the offer though."

Sagitta tossed her hair, looking annoyed. "Fine." She said simply, then turned and walked off. Jade couldn't help but wonder about her and if she would join the alliance or not. She seemed shrouded in mystery. Oh well…

She returned to sulking. At some point, she saw District 11 wander in. They were giant, walking stalks of corn. You couldn't even see their arms in that mess, just their stubby legs sticking out at the bottom. It was ridiculous.

_Their stylists must not want them to win this year. They look like total idiots. _She thought, unable to look away from the atrocious costumes.

Suddenly, the male tribute saw her staring and grinned. He began making his way over to her, as if he had been given some sort of invitation.

_Oh great, here he comes. _Jade groaned inwardly.

Al boldly climbed right into the chariot and sat down next to her. For a moment, he just smiled stupidly at her. "Now I don't want you to think I'm _stalking _you," He said in a slow voice, as if he were speaking to someone mentally handicapped, "I just wanted to ask…did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

Jade just stared at him, wondering how on earth to respond to that.

Al's grin widened. "I guess you're not a fan of _corny _pick-up lines." When she still didn't respond, he went on. "Get it? Because I'm dressed like—"

"I get it." Jade cut him off, quickly thinking up a comeback. "I was just wondering how your face got all smashed in like that." She made her eyes go wide with concern and she pointed at his tanned features.

"My face ain't smashed!" Al laughed, but then he reached up and felt it just to make sure.

Jade smiled sweetly. "Not yet." She said in a dangerous voice.

Al's smile faltered. Before he could say anything, an announcement went off, telling the tributes to get to their chariots. He jumped to his feet. "Next time I'll be sure to catch your name," He said smoothly on his way out of the chariot.

Jade just rolled her eyes. A few minutes later, Ian climbed in next to her. He took one look and saw the discarded corn leaves that had fallen off of Al's costume.

"What was District 11 doing here?" He asked sharply.

"Does it matter?" Jade said curtly. She was still irritated with him for leaving her. He could just stay in the dark for all she cared—let him assume the worst.

Ian let out a long sigh. "Babe…just because I dumped you doesn't mean you have to lower your standards like this. It's almost sad, really."

Jade opened her mouth for a biting retort, but an announcement suddenly rang through air, declaring the start of the ceremony. An orchestra started up, playing an epic version of the Capitol anthem. Jade rose to her feet, telling herself not to let Ian get to her. After all, his current girlfriend didn't even like him. She had called him shallow. Jade felt a bit smug knowing something he didn't and she was able to smile as their chariot pulled out.

When the king and queen of District 1 appeared, an ecstatic shriek went up from the crowd. Countless hands reached towards them, groping the air of superiority that surrounded the two tributes. Both Ian and Jade beamed at their admirers and waved calmly, as if they were actually royalty. Jade made sure to blow a few kisses as well, watching approvingly as people pretended to catch them.

The response to District 2 was just as loud. Xander was positively thrilled, his brown eyes lit up with pure excitement. This was truly one of the defining moments of his life. He couldn't help but give into the crowd's demands and wave to them. Sagitta, on the other hand, seemed immune to everything. Her posture was ramrod straight as she stuck her nose in the air and crossed her arms, refusing to acknowledge anyone around her. She eyed Xander with displeasure, wondering how he could make such a fool of himself.

There was a loud, "Oooh…" when District 3 appeared. The noise hit Wiley's ears like an arrow and he visibly flinched. Then he offered up a shy smile to the raucous crowd of Capitolites. Spark kept a smooth expression, unwilling to take her mentor's advice and act like some sort of hyperactive ditz. She wasn't going to play any angles in the arena, so why bother faking it now?

District 4 appeared majestically, their cape and gown flowing out behind them. The artificial lights shimmered on their blue skins like sun on water. But the two tributes did not spare a glance for anyone beneath them. Their gazes were focused, staring straight ahead to the stage. They were calm and deadly; and everyone knew it.

When District 5 rolled out, their bodysuits suddenly lit up with electricity. Energy crackled along paths that snaked all around their bodies. It grew brighter and brighter. Isaac's eyes widened slightly. He felt like he was going to catch fire. He snuck a glance at Vera, but she seemed relatively calm, staring at their strange audience with a critical eye. As District 5 pulled closer to the stage and the audience turned their attention away from them, their costumes began to fade to black.

"Come on!" Viola squeaked excitedly, holding her hand out to Piston. Smiling, he grabbed it and raised it forward. They held their free hands straight out, like an airplane. After a moment, the Capitol seemed to realize what the two tributes were trying to accomplish. They screamed their praise to the heavens, proclaiming their love for the adorable little tribute and her gigantic companion.

"Kill her. Kill her now. This is the perfect opportunity." Omega hissed in Barrett's ear with terrifying clarity that blocked out the rest of the crowd.

Barrett's right arm was trembling furiously as he struggled to maintain a grip on the axe. He turned his head to look at Athena. She was grinning and waving to a few of her screeching fans. Yes. Now was the perfect opportunity.

Giving a mighty heave, Barrett swung the fake axe at her head. But the heavy prop flew from his grip, right out of the chariot. It landed among the Capitolites, who grabbed it and started wrestling one another for possession of it. Athena, startled, turned to shoot Barrett an inquiring look. He just stared at her blankly.

"Tell her it was deliberate." Alpha whispered, but Barrett couldn't bring forth any words.

Athena narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Then she returned to her crowd-pleasing ways.

Thimble stood there rigidly, unwilling to move for fear of her costume coming undone. The Capitol seemed to love their adorable outfits, as many high-pitched shrieks could be heard coming from them. Flick was twitching strangely, looking around with wide, scared eyes. Everything was overwhelming him. But then he spotted the orchestra hiding off in a corner and he relaxed slightly, focusing on the conductor's smooth rhythm.

Blushing, Thimble tried to avoid catching anyone's gaze, her hands clinging to her dress to keep it from unraveling any further. Her eyes fell upon banners that lined the path. Each banner contained an image of a tribute. But next to Flick's banner was a girl she didn't recognize. A girl that didn't look like _any _of the other tributes.

_Oh…that's me. _She realized, her heart pounding. Her once-choppy hair had been cut and styled differently. Not a trace of acne could be found on her clean, pale face. She hadn't bothered to look in a mirror after all of the prep team's efforts. This is what they had done to her.

A sense of pride swelled up from within. _Suck on that, Lacy Button. _

The crowd quieted ever so slightly at the sight of the glaring District 9. Neither of the wheat-feathered peacocks was happy to be there and they made sure everyone knew it by glowering at the crowd. Aluma still feared that the horses would take off at any moment and the chariot ride would result in a terrible crash. When they didn't, she was able to calm herself down and face her audience. She brushed back her hair to make sure everyone got a good look at her eye. She would show them who she was; she didn't care what they thought. Rowan just stood there silently, eyes narrowed, looking pissed beyond belief.

The crowd quieted even more when they saw the miserable tributes of District 10, dripping with meat juices. Buck was torn between taking on a cold attitude or a charming one. But it felt awful to move in this costume, so he just stood there awkwardly, trying to ignore the fact that a bunch of Capitolites were plugging their noses. Claire just kept telling herself it could be worse.

District 11 appeared in their lame-looking corn stalk costumes, but the audience had already lost a good deal of their momentum. Al grinned and waved, trying to please the people. Quinoa, on the other hand, could feel bile rising in her throat. The Capitolites were absolute freaks with their strange-colored skin and gaudy accessories. They proclaimed their adoration, but she knew they didn't love her…they only loved what was coming. So she stared pointedly at her feet, refusing to even look at them.

Someone poked her arm and she glanced up at Al. He was grinning from ear to ear. "It's like we're the children of the corn." He whispered. Then he turned back to waving, leaving Quinoa to wonder what on earth he was talking about.

Seyuto knew he would be the one to get the Capitol going again. As soon as their chariot pulled out, he threw up both of his middle fingers and bellowed, "WHAT IS UP MAH HOMIES!" but his voice was drowned out by the response he got. Rina rolled her eyes and tried to ignore him, giving her fans a warm smile.

The horses took a victory lap around the area, letting the roaring audience get another look at the tributes residing on the chariots. Then, as if a silent voice had commanded them, the horses halted. Quieting, everyone looked expectantly towards the stage where the president stood.

"Happy Hunger Games." President Snow said flatly, as if he didn't find it all that exciting. His cold blue eyes scanned the twenty-four young people in front of him. After a pause, he congratulated them on being chosen to represent their districts. A few tributes—mainly the Careers—swelled with pride. Most of the others looked dejected or bitter. But they listened respectfully as Snow continued his usual speech, all eyes focused on him.

No one saw the woman standing further behind Snow, looking hungrily at each of the tributes. A malicious smile quivered on her lips, for she knew these children would be filling her arena within a few days. They would be fighting for their lives and dying alongside one another. They would uphold tradition and provide the best entertainment the world had to offer.

And she could barely wait.


	14. Training Part 1

**I split training into three chapters. Yeah, they're short, you don't have to tell me. This and the next one would have been one complete chapter, but I wanted to divide them up. Enjoy. Oh, and happy (early) birthday Ashbrie13 and books-are-brain-food456. :)  
**

The first thing the tributes noticed when they entered the training room was the mass assortment of weapons lining the wall. Everything they could have imagined was there—from the tiniest dagger to the largest axe. Even the Careers couldn't have named every weapon that was spread before them.

A man stepped forward to give everyone a brief description of each station. But the young adults were barely paying attention, their eyes roving over the large, dark room they were in. When the trainer let them loose to explore, Jade watched Ian cross over to where District 4 was standing. A second later, Xander appeared among their ranks.

She hesitated to join them. _If not now, when? _She asked herself. But she still couldn't force herself to walk over and pretend like she wasn't mad. _Maybe it's for the best. _She decided, turning to go in the opposite direction, _If we can't even work together in training, then what hope is there for the Games?_

"What are you going to do about your district partners?" Zale asked, looking from Jade and Sagitta as the two of them headed off to train.

Ian gave a dramatic sigh and shook his head. "They're not babies. Why worry about them?"

"Because I—_we_—want this alliance to be as strong as possible." Meredith said reasonably, "There are only six true Careers; that leaves eighteen more tributes for us to deal with. It's time to put aside petty differences and make amends." She turned to look at Xander, fixing him in her gaze.

"Okay, _fine_." He muttered, looking away guiltily, "I'll talk to Jade. But I'm not gonna try to make amends with Sagitta. I didn't even do anything to her…she just hates me for no reason."

"I'll talk to Sagitta." Meredith offered. "Zale, go with Xander." _He can't be trusted not to mess this up. _She added silently.

"Guess that means I'm with you." Ian purred, slipping over to stand beside her.

Meredith narrowed her eyes, tempted to tell him off. Instead, she silently turned and walked to where Sagitta had gone. Ian tagged along with her and she felt a flash of frustration. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible so that they could get to training.

Meanwhile, Sagitta had gone to the knot-tying station. She wanted to avoid the other Careers for now, and she knew this was the last place they would come to. They would be off fondling the weapons or running the obstacle course. Doing idiotic stunts to prove their power to the other tributes. _Why even bother? _Sagitta wondered, tying a simple bowline knot, _They've already had plenty of training when it comes to that. They should be focusing on the things they haven't learned in the training centers._

Suddenly, she was aware of someone coming up to work next to her. Turning her head, she realized that it was a short girl with bushy brown hair. For the first few minutes, a trainer came over and instructed her on how to tie a few simple knots. Then she left the two of them alone to work in silence.

"Ugh…" Claire scrunched her nose up in distaste as the thin rope become tangled around her fingers, "This is harder than it looks. I wonder if anyone's even had to use knots in the arena before?"

"Of course they have," Sagitta said quietly, "You can use them to build traps or tie a net together."

Claire sighed, letting her hands fall in defeat. "I won't be building any of those, so it's not as if I'll need this skill." She began untangling the rope, as if she were already giving up.

"…You're from District 10, right?" Sagitta wondered, thinking back to the Reapings.

"That's right." Claire confirmed. "My name's Claire."

_Figures, _Sagitta thought, _Only an outlying tribute would give up on knot-tying after one whole minute. Doesn't she realize traps can be used to catch food as well as tributes?_

"And you are?"

"Sagitta, District 2." Sagitta said.

Claire suddenly looked a lot less friendly, her gaze turning cold. She turned back to her failed knot, becoming extremely quiet.

"Is there a problem?" Sagitta asked, feeling annoyed.

"Well no…" Claire said in a voice trembling with rage, "Unless you think killing human beings is completely okay."

"Look here, _Claire_." Sagitta said dangerously, rising to her feet, "I was raised differently than you so don't you dare judge me. Just because your district doesn't know how to adapt to the world and start training kids to survive doesn't mean—"

"I'll judge you whether you want me to or not!" Claire declared, jumping up. The top of her head barely reached Sagitta's shoulder, but she still faced up to her bravely. "Morals are more important than anything! Your district is trashing those morals by playing into the Capitol's pathetic game!"

"We're doing it to survive!" Sagitta snapped back.

"You're doing it for glory!" Claire countered.

Claire felt a hand pinch her shoulder and pull her back. For a moment she thought it was a trainer come to separate them, but then she heard Buck's heavy accent in her ear. "What in tarnation do you think yer doin'?" He mumbled, sounding angry.

"Let me go." Claire hissed as he roughly led her away from Sagitta.

Buck deposited her at the opposite end of the training center. "Gonna get yourself killed, goin' off like that." He said gruffly.

Claire glowered at him, tempted to slap him across the face for manhandling her. "Why do _you _care?"

Buck's brown eyes widened innocently. "Don't you remember what I said on the train? Bout the starvin' little farm kids? They're countin' on you not to get yerself killed!"

"Stop talking about the starving little farm kids!" Claire snapped, sick of his lecturing, "I get it already!"

"Really, cause I don't think you do." Buck snorted.

"Look…" Claire said, taking a deep breath and trying to control her anger, "We're not in an alliance together, so you don't have to worry about me. I know how to take care of myself. All right?"

Buck hesitated to respond. For a moment, Claire felt a spark of hope. Had he changed his mind? Would they band together after all?

"Yer right." Buck said, "I _don't _have to worry about you. Have fun gettin' yerself killed, sweetheart."

Claire's heart fell as she watched Buck turn and meander off towards the weapons area. _His loss, _She told herself, _I'll just find someone else to form an alliance with. _

Buck approached the weapons station, where a small girl was trying to string an arrow. He stopped to watch, feeling mildly entertained. If she couldn't even string it, why didn't she move on to try something else? Or at least ask a trainer for help?

Thimble noticed Buck smirking and shot him a glare. "_What?_"

"Here." Buck reached out to take the bow from her.

Thimble quickly passed it over. "You think you can do better, huh?" She said in a flat voice.

"Just bein' a good neighbor." Buck chuckled. "See, the arrow fits into this here notch. You just gotta keep it there and take aim…"

He lifted the bow to shoot the target, but the arrow slipped out of the notch. "Dammit!" Buck cursed, trying to force it back in. But it refused to stay.

It was Thimble's turn to feel smug. She watched as Buck tried to string the arrow again and again. Finally, he just held it in place and took aim. But he didn't pull back far enough on the string to release it. The arrow wobbled for a moment, then clattered to the ground in the most pathetic shot ever taken.

Thimble started laughing. "Thanks, that helped a lot!"

"Screw it!" Buck snarled, shoving the bow back into her hands, "This bow is defective!" He turned and stomped off, fuming.

Thimble put the bow back where she had found it. She knew it wasn't defective; she just stunk at using it. And so did Buck. In the end, she decided that knives were the way to go. They were light and easy to handle. A single jab only took a second, unlike the painstaking process of stringing an arrow.

When she had finished up the quick lesson on knives, she decided to spend the rest of the day setting snares and tying knots—two things she found she excelled at.

Aluma was another tribute that discovered her penchant with snares after failing with multiple weapons. It was the one thing that could hold her attention. Otherwise, she was constantly on the go, checking out every station the center had to offer. There were all sorts of new activities to discover—camouflage, fire-building, edible plant identification…

And the number of weapons the trainers had to offer was countless. Aluma didn't bother to try using them. Instead she picked them up one by one, weighing them in her hands, and then putting them back. That was where she ran into Rowan.

He was just standing there with a strange, curved weapon in his hands, looking at it wistfully. By the way his eyes glazed over, she could tell he was thinking about something else.

"What's that?" Aluma asked, snapping him out of his daze. She pointed to the peculiar weapon. "Some kind of sword?"

"It's a kama." Rowan responded rather irritably, "It was crafted by my—"

"Oh, is it a type of scythe?" Aluma interrupted.

A scowl settled over Rowan's face. "Sure." He growled. He couldn't understand why he kept getting stuck talking to her when they couldn't seem to get along. He just wanted to be alone. So he hung the kama back on its rack and stiffly walked away.

When he glanced back, he saw Aluma handling it. He felt a small amount of disgust. An obnoxious girl such as herself didn't deserve to touch something so carefully created by his father. Memories of his family and Ruse briefly stole over him. But he shook them off, returning to the present.

He had to focus on the now. Every bit of training mattered if he was going to be getting home.

Earlier on, after Buck and Claire had left Sagitta to herself, Ian and Meredith had approached her as she practiced using a short dagger with a trainer. She was already confident when it came to using a bow, but she needed more practice with a short-ranged weapon.

"Sagitta. Can we talk?" Meredith asked.

"In a minute." Sagitta grunted, dodging a swipe from the trainer.

"_Now_." Meredith said curtly.

Sagitta clenched her teeth, trying to ignore the two of them. The trainer suddenly went on the offensive, catching her off guard. He sent her tumbling to the ground. Sagitta let out a noise of frustration as Ian laughed softly. Turning her back on the trainer, she got up to face the two Careers.

"You know…" Ian said in a slow, seductive voice, "If you'd like to see how a real Career trains, I could give you some private lessons."

"I _am _a real Career." Sagitta replied through gritted teeth.

Meredith waved a hand, as if dismissing their conversation. "Enough. Sagitta, I'm here to try and convince you to join our alliance. It would be the best option for _all _of us. We can cover one another's weaknesses. We'll be able to rack up more kills during the Bloodbath without each other as enemies. And we'll be more efficient when it comes to hunting as well."

Sagitta paused, listening to her plight. "What about when it's time to disband?" She said, narrowing her eyes.

"It will be a peaceful arrangement, of course." Meredith lied. Honestly, she didn't know how that would go down. With the tension that already existed between them, she doubted her own words.

Sagitta seemed to think so too. "Sure it will." She mumbled, "Well, I'm all for having the strongest alliance possible. But I don't think I can join if the boys continue to be so insufferable." She turned an unforgiving gaze to Ian.

"You know you like it." Ian challenged quietly, passing his tongue over his lips.

"So kill him in his sleep if you starts to tick you off." Meredith decided, talking over Ian.

He looked at her, eyes widening. "Excuse me?"

Meredith lifted an eyebrow coolly. "So don't tick her off."

Sagitta suppressed a smirk. She could probably grow to like Meredith. She seemed all right—it was Ian and Xander she couldn't stand. But she would just have to suck it up. "I'm joining." She decided.

Ian smiled triumphantly, as if he had been the deal breaker. Meredith gave a satisfied nod. "Great. Let's see what the others are up to."

Xander and Zale had been wandering around for a little while, trying to find where Jade had gotten. But all of the stations were devoid of her presence as if she had up and vanished.

"Well, at least I don't have to apologize anymore!" Xander laughed.

Zale ignored him, scanning the ceiling. "She's here somewhere…ah, there she is."

Jade was currently practicing her climbing skills, which were quite impressive. She had climbed straight up a rope and was now skimming along the belted ceiling.

"Wait, this gives me an idea." Xander grinned, stopping Zale from chasing after her. He ran off to retrieve a knife from the weapons area and brought it back to where the rope ladder was. Zale could see what was coming from a mile away, but he just stood back and let the drama unfold. Xander climbed up the rope and cut it off at the very top. Then he proceeded to crash to the floor with it, but a smile still lit up his face as he untangled himself.

"Now she can't get down!" He declared.

"She can just jump down." Zale said blankly, "It's not like she's crippled."

Not even a second later, Jade leapt down from the ceiling and landed on her feet next to them, brushing herself off. "You're going to have to do better than that." She said, leering at Xander.

He just blinked innocently. "Me? Do better than what?"

Jade and Zale just both gave him very hard, focused stares. Xander avoided their eyes, laughing uncomfortably. When they didn't say anything after a full ten seconds, he finally broke. "Fine. _I'm sorry._" He said in the sincerest voice he could, looking at Jade.

"And?" She said, lifting her eyebrows.

He shrugged. "I'm an idiot for insulting District 1 when District 2 is probably no better."

"And?"

"My jokes are terrible. There, I said it! You're killing me here!" Xander said, wincing and clutching at his heart.

Jade laughed, and he finally relaxed, taking it as a sign of forgiveness. And it was. "That's all I wanted to hear." She said, placing her hands on her hips and feeling relaxed. She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Now where's the rest of our alliance? Don't tell me they broke off too."

"They ran off to talk to Sagitta." Zale said, turning to look around. His eyes fell upon Meredith, who was approaching them along with Ian and Sagitta. "And from the looks of it, they were successful."

With that, the six of them came together, finally united as one. The Career alliance was a go.

"_No_." Vera whispered, watching as the Careers rejoined one another. She had noticed the lack of a Career pack in the morning. She had tried not to get her hopes up, telling herself that they could reforge their alliance at any moment, but that didn't stop her. When she saw them finally patch up whatever differences they had, her heart fell.

"There's nothing we can do." Isaac murmured, watching as the group of bloodthirsty teens headed off towards the obstacle course.

"Hopefully their conflicting personalities will lead them to destroy one another early on." Vera agreed. She tore her gaze away to look to her district partner. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to try my hand at sword-fighting." Isaac decided. He almost asked Vera what she would do, but realized he already knew the answer to that: observe other tributes, of course.

"See you later then." Vera murmured, her sight concentrated on something far away. Isaac followed her gaze to see the creepy-looking kid from District 7 that gave him a bad feeling in his gut. But he allowed Vera to be on her way.

And so, he tried out many new things at the training center that day. He sparred with the sword trainer for a bit, but quickly tired. His muscles (or lack thereof) weren't used to the workout. He tried lifting weights to build up strength, but after a few minutes, he acknowledged that it was a lost cause. He wouldn't be able to build up that sort of stamina within such a short timespan. So Isaac headed off to stations where he could work with his hands and learn new things.

Vera wandered around the large gymnasium, observing the other tributes as the Gamemakers would observe her. She paid special attention to any alliances that may have been forming. Most of it just seemed to be children being friendly to one another…however; District 6 seemed to have formed a special bond. Everywhere the large boy went, the little girl tagged along. She also spotted the girl from District 11 following the boy who couldn't sit still around, but she wasn't sure what sort of relationship they shared.

Finally, she couldn't put it off any longer. She _had _to talk to the boy from District 7 who fascinated her to no end.

Barrett had been spending every waking moment with his usual crew of Echo, Alpha, and Omega. But this morning he had encountered an old hallucination of his: the harlot. When he had woken up in a strange bed next to a rather promiscuous woman, his first thought was that a female Capitolite had broken into his room. But then he recognized her; he hadn't seen her in the flesh for a full year. Usually, she just appeared on magazine covers or on TV.

"Barrett…" The young woman moaned, throwing herself at him.

He had scrambled out of the bed, biting back a scream. He wanted to call his escort, but then they would know he hadn't been taking his medication. And he had been doing a great job of hiding it until now thanks to Alpha's constant stream of instructions.

So Barrett had calmly gotten dressed, allowing the harlot to remain in his bed. She groaned for him to pay more attention to her. She said she wanted to play a game. But he ignored her.

Thankfully, she hadn't followed him to the training center. At the moment, he was huddled in a corner with his friends while they gave commentary on the other tributes.

"-the only way the girl with the bad eye will be able to see again is if she cuts out both of her eyes." Omega was saying, "Now, she may not believe you when you tell her, so you might have to do it for her—uh-oh. Someone's coming."

Barrett turned to see the same girl that had been watching him yesterday approaching him. Before she could come any closer, the head trainer called that it was time for lunch. Barrett turned and walked quickly away, Echo tagging along behind him, wondering if the Capitol's cooking would be as good as Mommy's cooking.

The Careers staked out their own table, of course. Other tributes ate with their district partners or sat alone. Barrett tried to sit next to Athena, but she rounded on him, looking freaked out.

Without a word, she got up and moved. Barrett felt embarrassed.

"Should have nailed her with that axe when you had the chance." Alpha scoffed.

"Hey now, you're the one who said not to!" Omega growled.

Suddenly, Vera walked right up and sat down next to Barrett with her lunch. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Echo's sitting there."

Vera froze, staring at him calmly. After a pause, she said, "Right. My apologies, Echo." Then she moved to sit on the other side of Barrett.

He sat there, stunned. _Can she see Echo? _He looked at his little sister questionably. She was kicking her feet, grinning. "I like her!" She mouthed, pointing at Vera.

"But can she really see you?" Barrett whispered. He looked at Vera in wonderment and realized she had heard him. "I'm the only one who can see Echo." He explained, flustered.

"I know." Vera said simply, "I understand now."

"What does she mean by that?" Omega asked suspiciously.

"Don't be rude." Barrett whispered in a warning voice.

Vera had turned her attention to her food, eating calmly. But she was training a careful eye on Barrett the entire time, watching him. She was positive he had schizophrenia. She had read about it before, and heard stories from her mother, but was never fortunate enough to witness it for herself. This was all very fascinating.

"So what's your name?" She asked in a light voice.

"Barrett." He mumbled.

"Hello, Barrett. I'm Vera." She forced an empty smile at him, "Are you in an alliance, Barrett?"

Barrett let out a humorless laugh. "Not with any _tributes_."

"Well, you're welcome to join mine if you want." She said kindly.

Barrett could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Instantly, both Alpha and Omega were at his ears, whispering their opinions and advice to him. Amazingly enough, they did not contradict one another. That was most certainly a first.

"Take the offer, take the offer!" Alpha hissed.

"You have to be with this girl. You have to _help _her." Omega said desperately.

"Help her or the world will implode!"

"Stay by her side."

"She _must _escape these Games."

"Okay!" Barrett decided in a loud voice, putting a stop to the puffballs' whisperings, "I'll do it."

Vera smiled. "Great."

Barrett tried to return the smile, but it felt odd on his face. Vera returned to her meal, but Barrett sat there, just watching her every movement. _I'm going to help you. _He promised her silently.


	15. Training Part 2

**This one is relatively shorter than Day 1. But who really cares. :P It's an early-ish update, right?  
**

**Here are the results of the favorite pet poll!**

**1st Hapi and Keata with 14 votes**

**2nd Hip and Puff with 9 votes**

**3rd Saffron and Angel with 8 votes**

**4th Quinoa and Duck with 7 votes**

**5th Tasi and Hope with 3 votes**

**6th Olivia and Silver Thunder, Shem and Cream, Dominic and Silver, Rowan and Hickory with 1 vote**

**This seems about right. If Keata hadn't won I probably would have packed up shop and left because there was seriously no tribute-pet relationship that was as developed as those two. And for the record, I voted Keata and Puff. Puff had some good moments. Now go vote in the new poll!  
**

On Day 2, Piston and Viola decided to tackle the weapons station. Viola had decided to drop any grudge she felt towards Piston. She sensed that he had a good heart and deserved to be forgiven. Together, they had spent the day touching upon less-populated stations. They identified edible plants together, something that Viola was very good at, as she found the subject especially interesting. Piston wasn't so good when it came to memory, unfortunately. But he was fast and powerful and would discover his affinity for wielding a large mallet the next day.

His muscles bulged as he brought back his arms for a massive swing. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Rina watching him. Smirking, he unleashed his full power and completely wrecked a dummy with his hammer. Grinning, he reached up and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Rina approached him in the short break.

"Hello," She said, giving Piston a warm smile, "So…do you accept rock farmers into your alliance?"

"No, but I might consider coal miners." Piston returned with a hearty laugh.

An awkward pause stretched between them.

"That means yes." Piston said, lifting his eyebrows and tipping his head forward.

"Thanks for spelling it out." Rina said dryly, turning to observe the wall lined with weapons, "So what would you recommend?"

"Hmm…" Piston stroked his chin thoughtfully, "You seem like a dagger kind of girl."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Rina said, nabbing a short, serrated knife, "Where's your little friend?"

"Viola's practicing with her slingshot. C'mon, you gotta see this kid. She's a natural."

_Why does she keep following me around? _Flick wondered, constantly aware of Quinoa's unsettling presence. He didn't want an alliance. Couldn't she see that?

The truth was, Quinoa was starting to grow desperate. She had watched helplessly as Piston accepted Rina into his group. She told herself there was nothing to it—just walk up and ask to join, just like Rina did. Some kind-hearted soul was bound to take her in. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

So she reverted to stalking Flick. She found him to be one of the least intimidating tributes. His twitchy antics were rather charming and made him appear fairly harmless. Besides, he wasn't in an alliance yet. She wasn't so nervous when she was around him.

_She better not follow me in the arena! _Flick wailed inwardly. He could almost imagine Astron's rage. 'She's just useless baggage!' She'd say, 'Why are you letting her weigh you down?'

But for some reason, he couldn't summon the words that would make her go away. So they remained in close proximity at all times, unspeaking, unacquainted. While he learned how to wield a bow and arrow, she was nearby working with a scythe. When he was at the edible insects station, she was identifying edible plants a few yards away. Whenever he'd switch stations, she'd trail behind him like a baby duckling following its mother.

Eventually, Flick grew used to her presence and allowed her to tag along with him. They wound up running the obstacle course together, alongside a friendly girl named Athena. Athena had been avoiding everyone up until now; scared of the interactions she might share with the ones who would kill her. But Flick and Quinoa seemed harmless enough so she welcomed them with open arms.

"Think you can beat my score?" She challenged playfully, "No one's as agile as me! I guess I'm just naturally gifted."

Quinoa shyly avoided her gaze while Flick tapped his fingers awkwardly.

Athena felt a surge of warmth. "Aw, you guys are so cute! Make sure you play that up in the arena. The Capitol is just going to adore you."

Flick shook his head. "No."

"What?" Athena said, looking surprised, "Sorry, did I say something wrong?"

_I promised Astron I would do as she said, _Flick thought, turning heel and walking quickly away. He could hear a flurry of footsteps following him. Quinoa. Flick gritted his teeth with determination, _I promised Astron I would do as she said and that means NO ALLIANCES!_

Not far off, Viola was participating in some target practice. She filled with warmth as the pellet she fired struck a bulls-eye. The day before, she had asked Piston if he thought she would hold him back or be too much of a burden in the arena. But he reassured her that he knew how tough she was. Besides, he owed her for rescuing him from being whipped. That was the conversation that made her forget any rudeness he had shown before.

Viola reached for another piece of ammo on the table next to her, but came up empty. She turned to see that the round pellets had strangely disappeared. Whipping her head around, she spotted a short boy with dark, wiry hair slinking in the opposite direction. She could see him slipping something into his pocket…

"Hey!" Viola shouted, giving chase, "Hey, that's mine!"

Al didn't react right away, but he picked up the pace. Viola charged after him, catching up within a few seconds.

"That's _mine_." She said, standing in his way and pointing at his pocket.

"Oops!" Al chuckled, "Sorry, kid. Didn't notice." He fished out the slingshot ammo and dumped it into her open palms.

Viola gave him a small glare and then they parted ways. Al headed off to the camouflage station, looking suspicious.

As soon as Viola arrived back, she ran into Seyuto. He was holding her slingshot, looking at it with a bored expression. As soon as he saw her coming, a cruel smirk crossed his face. "This yours?"

"Yes, it is. And I have the ammo right here." She held it up.

Seyuto went to snatch it.

"Hold on! I haven't finished practicing yet." Viola said, taking a step back.

"Aww, boohoo. Well it's my turn now!" Seyuto said, bobbing his head from side to side and pulling a pouty face. "So why don't you go play with your dolls or something?"

Viola clenched her little fists. "This is because I'm a little bit taller than you, isn't it?" She challenged. "You're a _stump_."

"Check yoself before yo wreck yoself, ya little bi-"

"Hey." A deep voice growled.

Seyuto whipped around to face a towering Piston. His dark eyes sparked dangerously and his broad shoulders were tense. Rina stood at his side, looking rather amused.

"I remember you from the chariots. Where do you get off, stealing from a 12-year old?" Piston said, glowering down at Seyuto.

Seyuto rolled his eyes. "I wasn't stealing, _stupid_. The dang thing was just sitting here so I nabbed it!"

"So give it back." Piston said, taking a threatening step towards younger tribute.

Despite the fact that Piston could have probably killed Seyuto by stepping on him, a smirk played at the edge of his lips. He pointed a finger right at Piston's nose and declared in a loud, mocking voice, "Looks like _Pissedon's _pissed off!" Then he began clapping his hands, chanting in a musical voice, "Pissed off! Pissed off!"

"Seyuto…" Rina began in an exasperated tone.

Before she could say anything, Piston's fist went shooting forward, connecting with Seyuto's face. He reeled backwards with a yelp. Viola let out a small shriek. Rina stared with wide eyes—then a sly smile unwillingly appeared on her face.

Trainers began to rush over, prepared to separate the two of them, but Piston was already walking away, cracking his knuckles. "C'mon," He said to the two girls accompanying him, "Let's get out of here."

Seyuto scrambled to his feet, holding his throbbing face. His eye hurt like crazy. There was no way he wouldn't get a black eye from this.

"Let's get you some first aid…"A trainer offered, trying to steer him towards an exit.

"I'm fine!" Seyuto snarled, shaking her off, "Seyuto don't need no fool's help!" Grimacing through the pain, he carefully walked over to another location. There, he stumbled upon some dude with nerd glasses. He was holding a throwing knife and staring at it like he had no idea what to do with it.

For a full minute, Seyuto just watched him, waiting for him to do something. He pressed his cold fingers to his eye, sighing with relief as the pain numbed. Even when it had narrowed down to nothing more than a slight throb, the brown-haired nerd still hadn't made a move. He just kept staring at the knife like some sort of lunatic.

Fed up, Seyuto strolled over to him, shouting, "Ey yo, gimme that thang! Seyuto here's gonna show you the ghetto way to handle a knife."

Wiley flinched in surprise as Seyuto snatched the dagger right out of his hands. For a moment, he just stared at him blankly. Then he let out a short, loud laugh.

"Something _funny?_" Seyuto said in a dangerous voice. He stepped right up into Wiley's personal bubble, causing him to shrink back in fear. Seyuto rose up on his tiptoes so that he was eyelevel with the 17-year old's chest. Very intimidating.

"No. I wasn't laughing. Not at all. Er, actually I was laughing at myself, not at you. Why would I be laughing at you?" Wiley spluttered, eyeing the knife in Seyuto's hand nervously.

Seyuto smiled smugly. "That's what I like to hear. Anyways…" He turned towards a human-shaped target, taking a firm grip on the knife in his hand. With one quick movement, he sent it flying towards the board. With a _thud _it sunk into the human outline, striking the person's stomach.

"Y'see?" Seyuto said proudly, "With my kinda swag, nothing's…hey, where d'you think you're going, loser?"

During Seyuto's demonstration, Wiley had started inching away. Now he froze like a deer in headlights. Seyuto was instantly back in his face, puffing himself up to full height and jabbing Wiley in the chest.

"Whaddya think ya doin', huh? I'm showin' ya some good crap and ya just walk away? Huh!? You stupid or somethin'?!"

Wiley tried to protest, but Seyuto cut him off.

"There's only one way ta settle this: RAP BATTLE!"

Seyuto backed up and began beat boxing, swaying side to side with the rhythm. Wiley glanced around nervously, not quite knowing what to do. Other tributes were starting to notice the disturbance. Then Seyuto began to rap:

"Yo Four-Eyes, I ain't gonna lies, you be the stupidest dawg I evah did see, yeah you just a moron, you ain't got yo swag on, think I'm gonna puke when I look atcha, freaky Capitol-wannabe—"

While Seyuto unleashed his wrath, a number of people looked on.

"Should we…do something?" One trainer wondered.

Another one shrugged. "They're not fighting. Technically."

"Oh my God." Spark said, staring in horror.

"What?" Isaac said, looking up from his work.

Currently, the two of them were working at the poison identification station—one of the newest stations to date. They had been holding a friendly conversation, helping one another memorize the different types of poisons when a commotion broke out by the knives.

"That's my district partner." Spark said blankly, "He's so hopeless." _Thank God I told him we shouldn't be seen together. I think I would die of embarrassment if I were over there right now._

Isaac wasn't one to judge. "At least your district partner didn't ditch you for a schizophrenic." He muttered.

Spark turned, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "_What?_"

Isaac shrugged a shoulder, trying to look nonchalant. "I was getting along fine with Vera for a while until she started following Barrett everywhere he went. She told me about his condition and I told her to stay away from him, but she refused. So we're no longer sharing an alliance. Oh well. She's not my problem to worry about."

Spark remained quiet for a moment. She briefly wondered if she should ditch her pathetic district partner in favor of this other boy. Then again, he wasn't from District 3 and therefore, the enemy. So she just said in a polite tone, "That's too bad." And returned to her work, trying to ignore Seyuto's obnoxious rapping. He was tearing into Wiley like there was no tomorrow. When it had finally ended, she looked up to see Wiley scampering away from the field of battle like some sort of frightened mouse.

Seyuto, triumphant, continued flinging his knives at the target.

Wiley headed over to the camouflage station. After such a humiliating ordeal, he wanted nothing more than to disappear among his surroundings. Al was already there, fumbling with the paintbrushes. He watched Wiley walk up, sympathy lining his features as the miserable teenager took a seat next to him.

"Don't be intimidated by him, man." Al told him, offering him a grin, "He's just a wannabe gangster…he's a wangster!"

Wiley just stared at Al, blue eyes clouded with sorrow.

"You should see some of the riffraff in District 11," Al went on, "That guy ain't nothin'! I mean, he's probably just mad because you're taller than him. He's trying to compensate for it."

"You're right." Wiley sighed heavily, not really in the mood to chat for once, "Thanks, mate."

Al patted Wiley on the back. Then he stood up and began to move off. Before he did, he tapped Wiley's shoulder and pointed to the trees nearby. They were there for obvious reasons, to help one paint the perfect bark pattern on their skin. One of the trees, however, looked a bit mangled as if someone had taken an axe to it. Someone had also painted a bright green smiley face on it.

"Like my drawing?" Al grinned mischievously, passing a paintbrush to Wiley, "Here, man. Paint yourself a happy face. It'll make you feel better."

Then he wandered off to go seek out the nearest bathroom, leaving Wiley alone at the station. Smiling a little bit, Wiley walked up to an unmarred tree and began to draw a sloppy smiley face on it.

A stern bark erupted from a trainer that happened to be passing by. "Hey! What do you think you're doing? Did you vandalize those trees?!"


	16. Facing the Gamemakers

**Hey...are all of the people who got a character in reading the story? Cause I was sitting here like...I haven't heard from a handful of people and I really don't know how they feel about how I've written their character. Maybe they hate it? Maybe they just haven't checked the story or don't think their character got accepted? I sent out little confirmation PMs saying if you got in or not at the beginning, right? Maybe I'm being paranoid. Just let me know if you're there. o.o It takes five seconds to leave a review and if you're reading this, I KNOW you have time to do it. Seriously, I really appreciate each review I get. Moving on...  
**

**Screw this chapter, it was so boring to write! The first part of it is their final hours in the training center, that part was okay. Then we have the score stuff. It's from the Head Gamemaker's perspective to change it up a bit, because these are awful enough. Speaking of which, if you wrote multiple things for your character to do, I only selected one of them. I guess I should have made it clear I only wanted one. Sorry!**

**Oh and those statistics are pretty interesting. Though it doesn't really have anything to do with the district, it's just based on who I like writing or what I think makes for a good story. :P Patterns are purely coincidental.  
**

It was Day 3 of training. The past few days had flown by unbearably fast. The tributes only had a few hours left to perfect their skills in the morning. Then came lunch. After that, they would perform in front of the Gamemakers and earn their scores. Then they wouldn't be handling anymore weapons until the Games themselves. No more skills could be acquired after today. Because of this, the air was teeming with nervous tension. Even the Careers seemed quiet, loitering near the obstacle course as they decided on what to do.

Nearby tributes cast wary glances at them. Every time Buck looked up, he could see the boy from District 4 scrutinizing him. His dark eyes were stone cold and his expression unreadable.

"Great. Just great. He's gonna kill me in the Bloodbath." Buck said flatly to the boy who was working alongside him at the fire-building station.

Rowan looked up from his work, catching Zale's eye. The intimidating District 4 Career held his gaze, a small smirk creasing his mouth. He seemed to know they were talking about him. Rowan's lips curled in a scowl.

"Look at him. He thinks he's better than us." He growled, "Just because he's a Career."

"Damn narcissist." Buck agreed, letting loose a frustrated sigh as his sticks refused to light.

Rowan dropped what he was doing and glared with all his might at Zale, who refused to look away. It was like some sort of awful staring contest. Whoever tore their gaze away first would be deemed the weaker man. That's just how it worked and nobody really questioned it.

Suddenly, the District 11 boy walked right up to the Careers, passing in front of Zale and breaking their eye contact. He was speaking to them in a loud voice, completely ruining their little showdown. Zale slowly turned his head away to listen while Rowan returned to his work.

"Looks like we've _both _been pegged as Bloodbaths now." He muttered, "Better be careful when you run in to the Cornucopia."

"I don't plan to." Buck mumbled. "District 10 has had bad luck when it comes to the Bloodbath fer as long as I can remember."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rowan snorted, not much of a believer when it came to luck. If it existed, it surely didn't favor either of them.

"It means two tributes run in, one comes out. Every damn year. And I ain't plannin' to continue the tradition."

Meanwhile, the Careers were currently dealing with Al and his bold request. Despite all of Kalin's warnings, he was seeing this plan of his through.

"You want to join our alliance?" Jade said, staring at Al as if there might be something wrong with him. She looked him up and down-she wasn't impressed. He was on the short side for a guy and fairly stocky. Turns out, those corn stalks had been hiding some muscle tone, but it was nothing to brag about. Especially when he was standing alongside the other Careers.

"Actually I was thinking it could be an AL-liance." Al said, winking. He tried to keep a straight face, but burst out laughing a moment later.

The Careers all exchanged weirded out glances.

"The name's Al." Al explained, offering to shake.

"Oh, I get it! AL-liance! That's great!" Xander crowed, stepping forward and shaking his hand. "I wish I could use that, but my name's Xander and it doesn't really work. Whoever heard of a Xanliance? Hey! It kinda works with Zale's name! Zale-liance!"

Zale rolled his eyes. The other Careers hung back, looking unimpressed while Xander jabbered on. Al grinned enthusiastically as if he thought he had already won them over.

"Besides I don't know how I could stay away from such a pretty girl." Al said, smoothing his untamed hair and shooting a glance at Jade. Then he noticed Sagitta and Meredith looking at him. "Um, _girls. _Man, this is one good-lookin' alliance! Especially now that I'm here, amiright? Haha, I kid, I kid!"

Xander let out another round of laughter. Sagitta tried to keep from gagging. _Great, another shallow idiot to deal with, _She thought reproachfully.

"Standing around looking pretty isn't the only thing we're good at." Meredith said under her breath, her expression darkening.

"AY SUCKAS!"

"Oh no…" Al groaned lightly, as Seyuto came swaggering up.

"Seyuto Yosuke Laresses is here ta make yo day!" He announced, striking a pose.

Sagitta glared daggers at the newcomer. "Not another one..."

Ian let out a low laugh, stepping forward so that he loomed over the stunted Seyuto. "Well, well, well…" He said in a smooth voice, "If it isn't District 12, Panem's saddest excuse for a district. Why do you even bother talking to us? We're way too good for you."

"You bettah watch whatchu say ta me!" Seyuto snarled, putting up his fists, "I may not look like it, but I could mess you up big time!"

"Is that so?" Ian said in a bored voice, flicking a stray piece of hair out of his face.

Seyuto was boiling with rage. "You wanna go?!" He said, feigning a few jabs at the tall Career.

Ian smirked and beckoned him forward. "Go for it. I'll even give you the first shot."

"Hold it!" Jade said, stepping in between them, "Come on, Ian, he doesn't need _two _black eyes. Both of you are in." She looked to Al and Seyuto.

"Aw yeah!" Seyuto cheered, pumping his fist up and down.

"…Can I talk to you all for a minute?" Sagitta asked in a flat voice. The Careers retreated a few steps away, leaving the two outer district boys alone. Al looked a little nervous at the spontaneous meeting, but Seyuto was too busy celebrating with a song to notice.

_Not so sure I want to be in now that he's here. _Al thought, eyeing Seyuto with distaste, _Well, at least I'm not really joining them. It's only temporary._

"Jade, what are you _thinking_?" Sagitta hissed under her breath, looking furious, "You invited two more idiots into the alliance? You'd better tell them no right now or else…!"

"Relax, Sagitta." Jade told her. "I'm not stupid. Why do you think I'd invite them in without a second thought?"

"Because we're going to kill them at the end of the Bloodbath." Zale said in a bored voice, "Obviously."

"Glad we're all on the same wavelength," Jade said, smiling with approval, "But yes, after last year's atrocious betrayal, we definitely can't trust someone from the outlying districts. So we let them fight alongside us at the Bloodbath and when it's over—when they're still sticking around—we kill them."

Ian slung an arm around Jade's shoulder saying, "See, _this _is why I like you."

"Don't touch me." She said instantly, shaking him off.

"Aww, do we have to?" Xander whined, "Al seems like such a cool guy!"

"But we already have _one _guy who tells terrible jokes," Jade scoffed, shaking her head, "We don't need another, unless you want him to replace you. So Sagitta, what do you think?"

"I like it," She responded, narrowing her eyes, "Sorry about earlier—for a brief moment you had lost all of my respect."

"Well, I'm glad I didn't. Now let's see what these two are capable of. It'll be fun to make them think we're actually considering them."

To say they weren't capable was an understatement. Seyuto was pretty handy with knives, when he wasn't rapping or making smart remarks, which was most of the time. Al, on the other hand…

"I got this!" He declared, bringing back his arm to throw the spear at a target.

As he did so, the weapon slipped from his grasp and went shooting backwards. It narrowly missed hitting Spark, who happened to be passing by. She had to leap backwards to avoid getting impaled. She shot a glare in Al's direction.

"Well, the spear's not really my weapon…" He said quickly, not bothering to retrieve it, "Lemme try this thingy!" He snatched up a bow and began to fail at stringing it.

Jade rolled her eyes. Seyuto scooted over and nudged her. "Hehe, we should just kill him after the Bloodbath." He snickered.

Jade smiled at him sweetly. "That's a great idea, Seyuto. Why didn't I think of that?"

* * *

"Sorry I'm late," The Head Gamemaker said, strolling into the room, smoothing her ruffled red dress, "I had an interview. Is everyone ready to begin?"

"Now that you're here." Her assistant gave her a toothy grin and motioned to her soft, cushiony chair up front.

_Ugh...this is one of my least favorite parts. Judging the tributes. _The Head Gamemaker thought, taking a seat and massaging her temples. At least the experience was made bearable by the fact they got a sit-down meal. But that usually didn't come until the later districts. Curses.

But the young woman forgot about her empty stomach as soon as the first tribute was let in. It was Obsidian Shaw—she had a note sheet in front of her with every tribute's name on it. But she didn't really need it. She had memorized the list as soon as she had gotten it.

"Obsidian Shaw." The 18-year old said in a voice that commanded total attention. He flashed a delicious smile at his onlookers. "Call me Ian."

The Head Gamemaker smiled. She always had a soft spot for District 1 tributes. She was sure Ian wouldn't disappoint her.

It came as a mild surprise when he announced, "You've seen what I can do. You've seen me in training and you know my weapon of choice. Not much has changed. So I've decided to show you something a bit more fun."

He strode over to the poison identification station—a rather interesting choice. Most Careers performed with their best weapon in order to ensure its appearance in the Cornucopia. But the Head Gamemaker had already decided Ian's would be there. She leaned forward, interested, as he began to identify a number of poisons that could be found in nature.

Ian made sure to detail the side effects as well: this one causes loss of muscle control, this one results in a severe rash, this one induces nausea and vomiting…

"My favorite…" Ian said, eyes glittering with sadistic pleasure, "Is snake venom. There are all sorts of fun symptoms that come with getting bitten due to congealed blood. Luckily, I know how to milk a snake. I can thank the most important lady in my life for that." He puffed out his chest proudly. "Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed my fantastic demonstration. That will be all."

Then he swaggered from the room, bursting with confidence.

"That wasn't too impressive," One of the Gamemakers scoffed from the back.

The Head Gamemaker spun around in her chair, giving the outspoken man an incredulous look. "Are you kidding me? We _never _get to see that kind of talent in Careers. And he made a good point earlier on, about how we already knew his skills." Half of her coworkers were nodding in agreement, but no one else challenged her. Satisfied, she turned back around.

_He probably just wanted to hide this from the rest of his pack; _She thought silently, _what a smart cookie. _

The next tribute, Jade, came walking in as the Head Gamemaker finished jotting down a few notes regarding Ian's performance. Each of the Gamemakers would give him a score and it would be averaged at the end. The Head Gamemaker could always cheat it a bit if it wasn't to her liking, of course. But she tried not to do that too often.

"Hello!" Jade said, holding herself with the utmost confidence. She made a small curtsy, and then made her way over to where they kept the throwing knives. "Today I'll be showing you my talent with my main weapon. I've been training with it for years!"

The Head Gamemaker nodded, waiting for her to show her stuff.

And Jade was fantastic. Each of her knives flashed through the air, striking areas of the human target that would surely kill a real person—the throat, the head, the heart…

When she had finished, she gave another dainty curtsy and was dismissed. Ah, District 1. So classy yet deadly.

Xander burst into the room after her, grinning with excitement. "Hey! How many nuns could a nunchuck chuck if a nunchuck could chuck nuns?" He practically sang as he ran over and snatched up a—you guessed it—nunchuck. A trainer stepped forward to duel with him.

At first, Xander merely twirled them above his head in a flashy manner, pulling all sorts of little moves in order to show off. He seemed more like a baton twirler than anything. Just as the Head Gamemaker was starting to get bored, the trainer on the floor stepped in, swinging his nunchucks with less grace.

Xander gave a small yell as his opponent smashed his hand. One of his nunchucks went flying. The teenager's mouth pressed into a thin line of determination and he was instantly upon the trainer, whipping his single nunchuck at him.

Despite the fact that he wielded two, the trainer was overcome by Xander's skill. With two cleans hits, Xander disarmed him. The trainer had to leap backwards in order to avoid being smacked in the face. Xander backed off after that, looking towards the Gamemakers with wondering eyes.

"Well done." The Head Gamemaker said curtly, "Send in the next one."

Xander grinned as if she had just handed him the key to the President's mansion. "Thanks a lot!" He called over his shoulder as he rushed out.

Sagitta came in with her nose in the air, looking as if she couldn't be bothered to be here. The Head Gamemaker didn't quite know what to make of her attitude. She stopped in front of her audience and said stiffly, "First, I'll be demonstrating my archery skills. Then I'll move onto hand-to-hand combat and the obstacle course."

"Wait just a moment." The Head Gamemaker said, raising a finger, "We're short on time as it is." _And attention spans, _She added silently. "Please just select one talent to demonstrate."

Sagitta's posture went rigid. She stood there for a moment, looking as if she wanted to argue. Instead, she turned in the direction of the weapons rack and snatched a bow from it. Without taking a single step towards the target in the distance, she strung an arrow and shot it in one clean movement. The arrow struck the center of the target. A small smirk appeared on Sagitta's face.

The Head Gamemaker had to admit that it was a pretty good shot—especially since she hadn't even needed any time to warm up.

Moving on to the human-shaped targets, her efforts were much like Jade's. She aimed for the most lethal spots. A satisfied murmuring went up from the Gamemakers.

After Sagitta left, one of the new Gamemakers looked over, face etched with concern. "Do you ever give out any 11's or 12's?" She wondered.

"Not usually." The Head Gamemaker replied, scribbling down a few notes, "In my system, those numbers are reserved for anyone we want to mark as a target. Besides, 1 to 10 is classic." _Whoever thought they were being clever by having it as the same number of districts was an unproductive idiot. _

Speaking of unproductive idiots, Wiley Corr came wandering in next. As soon as his gaze fell on the Gamemakers, he stopped and stood there uncomfortably, his eyes flicking all around the room.

"Sometime today, Wiley." The Head Gamemaker sighed, wondering when the food would get here. Filet mignon with mushroom sauce was on the menu for today. She could hardly wait.

"Um…yeah, I can't do it if you're watching." Wiley said, letting out an awkward cough.

The Head Gamemaker just stared at him. She glanced around to the other Gamemakers, wondering if she had misheard the tribute. But all of her coworkers shared the same expression.

"…Excuse me?"

"Seriously, I'm—I'm not joking." Wiley said, adjusting his glasses and forcing a tentative smile. "If you…just turn around for a second."

The Head Gamemaker let out a short laugh. "I'm sorry? We're here to judge you. We _have _to watch."

But Wiley wasn't giving in so easily. "I know it seems pathetic, but just turn around, please? I promise you'll be impressed by it."

The Head Gamemaker narrowed her eyes, holding her ground. She could hear the other Gamemakers chuckling and making sarcastic remarks around her.

"Look, what's that behind you?!" Wiley gasped, pointing at something dramatically.

"If you're not going to do anything, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." The Head Gamemaker said sternly, not falling for it.

"Fine, fine," Wiley stepped over to the fire-making station, still looking a bit jumpy. He removed his glasses, continuing to cast anxious glances towards his judges. Once he had gathered a bit of tinder, he sat there like some sort of loon, holding the glasses over it.

After thirty seconds of this absurdity, the Head Gamemaker told him, "You may go."

"…Why didn't it work?" Wiley said, sounding stunned.

Before he could question his lack of fire-making any further, the trainers escorted him from the room. The Head Gamemaker looked at the chart before her. _Well, this won't be too hard to figure out._

When Spark came in, she paused at the entrance as if she hadn't quite figured out what to do. Luckily, she didn't pull a Wiley, and approached the edible plants station. There, she showed off her excellent memory skills by identifying most of the plants presented to her.

_Not extremely impressive, but it could help her in the arena. _The Head Gamemaker considered, _…Possibly._

Spark started heading over to the obstacle course, but they quickly dismissed her. She hesitated, looking rather surprised.

"We're on a tight schedule." The Head Gamemaker explained.

"Oh…" She said, giving a small bow, "Thank you for your time then. I appreciate it."

"Our pleasure." The Head Gamemaker said sweetly, though she wouldn't have been surprised to find Spark's comment sarcastic.

It was back to the Careers after that—Zale appeared and instantly grabbed a pair of dual knives. As he selected a trainer to spar with, the Head Gamemaker suddenly realized whom he resembled. His sister had competed in the Games years back, when she herself had not yet risen to power. She hadn't even been an assistant at the time.

_Talent must run in the family. Either way, it's nice to see that District 4 has been trying to get back into the Games lately. _

But Zale's game was off. His skill with his weapon of choice was prominent, but he didn't quite stack up to the other Careers thus far. The trainer was an even match and gained the upper hand at least once or twice. By the end of the battle, Zale was panting. An angry glare was planted on his face, as if he couldn't believe his bad luck.

"Not bad." The Head Gamemaker spoke up, trying to offer him a smile.

Zale shot a glance at her, smoothing his expression. "I suppose it was satisfactory." He mumbled.

_It was._ The Head Gamemaker thought. Even if he hadn't been at the top of his game, she had watched him during training. He was competent enough.

Zale stalked from the room, looking disgruntled. Then came Meredith. The Head Gamemaker could feel her attention starting to waver. But there was still a while to go, so she forced herself to pay attention.

The tall girl went for the same throwing knives Jade wielded. _Uh-oh, _The Head Gamemaker thought smugly, _Looks like the two of them will have to learn to share._

But instead of merely standing and chucking the knives at the targets, Meredith decided to show off her speed as well. She alighted onto the obstacle course. As she leaped across the moving platforms, she flung a knife at each dummy that stood along the path. Trainers tried to strike her with clubs, but she was fast.

Right at the end, a trainer hit her in the shin. She stumbled a bit, gritting her teeth against the pain, and threw the last knife. It missed its target by an inch. Meredith skidded to a halt, devastation flashing across her face. But then she composed herself and turned to face the Gamemakers, thanking them for their time.

"That was pretty impressive," The Head Gamemaker murmured after she had gone, "A shame about the end, though."

"She's probably beating herself up over it as we speak." The assistant Gamemaker snorted.

"Careers tend to be perfectionists." Another agreed.

_No more Careers from here on out, _The Head Gamemaker sighed internally, _Where is that godforsaken food?!_

She was becoming so distracted that she nearly missed Isaac come in and begin his demonstration. He snatched up the daggers as well.

_How boring. _The young woman thought, leaning into her chair. She was already getting sick of this. Why did they have to score them anyways? Oh, right. To determine the odds and help with betting and all that jazz. The entertainment aspect was so much better than the gambling aspect, though. Not that she would know. Gamemakers were forbidden from taking part in such activities.

After seeing Jade and Meredith's skill with throwing knives, Isaac paled in comparison. It was clear to see that he had picked up the skill a mere few days ago. At least he got in a few lucky shots.

However, the Head Gamemaker was not feeling generous. She was starving and beginning to feel grumpy.

Isaac seemed a bit nervous, but he managed a polite nod when he had finished. The Head Gamemaker smiled and returned it.

Vera was next—and wouldn't you know it: she did target practice with some stilettos. She seemed to be the same as Isaac. Trembling slightly at first and messing up a few times—but then she calmed down a bit and focused on hitting the target.

Before she had finished, the Head Gamemaker rose to her feet, growling, "I'm going to see what's taking the chefs so long."

"You can't leave now!" Her assistant whispered.

She opened her mouth to say, "I can do whatever I want!" but she was interrupted by a number of waiters piling into their balcony with large, steaming plates in their hands.

"Sorry for the wait." One apologized.

"Apology accepted." The Head Gamemaker said, mouth watering at the sight of a succulent steak. There were also piles of vegetables, a mountain of mashed potatoes, and a large bowl of moist, purple grapes. The other Gamemakers all crowded around with a rowdy cheer, helping themselves to red wine and delicious meat.

The Head Gamemaker looked back at the training center. Vera was standing there, her mouth partially open as if she couldn't believe how informal they were. The young woman gave the tribute a small wave. "That will be all, thank you." She said quickly, thinking she would just BS her review later on. Then she forced her way through her coworkers to claim her meal.

Piston showed up and waited patiently for everyone to get situated. Once they were looking at them, he offered them a crooked smile. "Hey. You ready for this?"

Then he began to show off his brute strength, lifting up a multitude of weights and weapons, handling them like they were as light as feathers. Armed with the heaviest hammer in the room, he brought it smashing directly into a dummy, shattering the poor thing to bits.

Once he had left, the Head Gamemaker turned to look at the rest of her team. They were all heartily digging into their meals rather than writing commentary on Piston's performance.

"What do you think, rookie?" Their leader said, honing in on one of the younger members.

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "While not the most skillful, I believe Piston has a great amount of potential…perhaps a 6 would be a safe score to give him?" She said in a careful voice.

The Head Gamemaker nodded approvingly. "You're right. But do you know about what he's done?"

"I…I don't quite understand."

"His background check claims he was apart of a union back in his home district," The Head Gamemaker explained, "I have my sources and apparently he got into a bit of a tiff with the Head Peacekeeper on the day of the Reaping."

"So you're saying we should give him a 12?" Her assistant answered immediately.

The Head Gamemaker smiled evilly. "No, not that high. Just raise the bar a bit to create some tensions with the Careers. I want to make this interesting…ah, here comes the next one."

Viola entered looking calm and collected. Of course, she instantly headed over to grab her slingshot.

The Head Gamemaker turned her attention away, focusing on cutting her steak. She had already seen what Viola could do with a slingshot multiple times. She had to admit, she was good for her age. But a slingshot didn't do nearly as much damage as a bow and arrows—unless you aimed for the eyes.

Viola smiled proudly at her capableness when it came to using the slingshot. She looked to the Gamemakers, as if expecting them to dismiss her. The Head Gamemaker's mouth was so full of food that she couldn't speak. And so Viola leaped onto the obstacle course and began to race down the platform.

"Wait!" The Head Gamemaker said, coughing to clear her throat, "You may go. Thank you, Viola."

"You're welcome!" Viola said brightly, but it seemed forced. She trudged out and let in the next person—Barrett.

The Head Gamemaker perked up instantly. She had been paying special attention to the boy from District 7. She was immensely excited to see how he would do in the Games, especially since he wouldn't have his medication available to him. The escort had been begging her to let him have it, but she refused. Things would be _far _more interesting without it.

Besides, it was fairly clear that Barrett hadn't been taking it anyways. He was mumbling to some invisible partner of his as he approached the Gamemakers. His eyes darted around for a moment then settled on a silver hatchet.

He grabbed a few of the small weapons and began to throw them at a target. His face was clear and focused. The hatchets sunk into the target with good precision—he nearly even hit a bull's-eye.

When he had run out of ammo, he paused, looking as if he were going to retrieve them. Instead, his head abruptly whipped towards the Gamemakers up on their balcony.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" He screamed, running towards them, waving his arms, "The food is poisoned! DON'T EAT IT!"

The Head Gamemaker jumped to her feet, alarmed. A few of her coworkers let out small screams and dropped their utensils with a clatter. Roaring with frustration, Barrett clawed at the wall beneath them, as if he were trying to climb it and get to them.

The Head Gamemaker forced herself to take a deep breath and relax. "The food's not poisoned." She said calmly, "The boy has schizophrenia. His voices must have told him this." She wiped at her eyes, very aware that her hands were shaking. Barrett had given her a good scare. Eating poisoned food was definitely on her list of fears.

Thankfully, the trainers grabbed Barrett and dragged him out of the room. He was still screeching nonsensically about the food. Then the heavy doors slammed behind him and he was gone.

Everyone let out a shaky sigh.

When Athena came in, they tried to appear as if that hadn't just happened. None of the tributes could know what the others had done, for the time being. But her wide green eyes betrayed that she had seen Barrett having his episode in the hallway outside.

"Is everything okay?" She asked, trying to offer up a smile as she appealed to the Gamemakers.

"Yes, just fine," The Head Gamemaker lied, "You may go ahead."

"Okay. I'll take your word for it." Athena let out a shaky laugh.

For her demonstration, Athena ran the obstacle course. When she had completed it, she ran it again. Backwards. Before she could run it a third time, the Gamemakers put a stop to it.

_She's fast, but it's easy to do a perfect run of the obstacle course when you're not wielding a weapon…besides, she's had a lot of practice. _The Head Gamemaker considered, nibbling thoughtfully on a grape.

Flick walked in, humming to himself, and grabbed a bow. Right as he took aim, the door to the balcony burst open again. The sound startled the Head Gamemaker and for a moment she envisioned herself being shot in the back of the head.

Then someone screamed, "Surprise!"

"Ohh, you guys shouldn't have!" She squealed, as they brought in a multi-layered chocolate cake with white frosting and sugar roses. "Is this really for me? It's my favorite!"

"Yup." Her assistant grinned, "We thought we'd celebrate the fact that you made it this far! Three years is quite the milestone in this business."

"I'm touched." The Head Gamemaker said, pretending to wipe away a tear. "Let's dig in!"

Only after she had been served her slice did she realize Flick had already left the room. She had completely missed his performance. _Oops… _She turned to see the arrows lodged in the targets. At least they gave away how well he had done. She took a moment to observe them, and then came up with a decent score for it in her head.

Thimble was up next.

Someone tapped the Head Gamemaker on the shoulder. She turned to face them. "Wine?" They offered her a glass.

She laughed, "No, thank you. I prefer to stay sober and judgmental."

"But it's your special day!"

"Then I deserve a special drink," The young woman shot back, "One mudslide, please."

"You heard the lady! One mudslide!"

The other Gamemakers cheered, betraying the fact that they were already somewhat intoxicated. The Head Gamemaker could see Thimble glowering at them as she set up some sort of trap at the snares station. It didn't look all that impressive from here. The chocolate cake was more interesting at the moment—it was the perfect texture and the frosting practically melted in your mouth.

Oops, Thimble had left while she was obsessing over the cake. Oh well. Someone had seriously run off and gotten a mudslide and was now shoving it into her hand.

Rowan looked appalled at the sight of partying Gamemakers before him. After rolling his eyes, he went to pick up a kama. He seemed to hold back a bit as he demonstrated his prowess, keeping an uncertain eye on the party being held above his head the entire time.

Another wave of boredom passed over the Head Gamemaker. Unable to resist the temptation, she took a delicate sip of her drink. At least this would make things a little bit more interesting. Hopefully. Maybe.

Not really.

Aluma was no more interesting than those who came before. Of course, there was the whole eye thing. The Head Gamemaker felt nauseous just looking at her and had to turn her face away. Why couldn't the girl wear an eyepatch? Was that so hard?! No! She hoped one of the other Gamemakers was paying close attention to her as she built her snare because she sure wasn't.

Aluma didn't bother even saying thank-you when she left. She must have sensed the hostility towards her. That, or she didn't like being ignored. Probably both. The Head Gamemaker gave a small chuckle. _Three more districts to go, thank God._

Buck selected a meat cleaver as his weapon, and then put in a request for some meat. It took a few minutes, but once he had it, he laid the stinking stuff out on the table and began hacking at it. Within a minute, he had finished. Then he took the meat over to the fire-building station and cooked himself a snack.

The Head Gamemaker just watched in a daze. _Well…that was creative. _She thought.

Buck smirked and gave a half-hearted bow. Then he strolled away, gnawing his newly claimed meal. The Head Gamemaker looked down at her discarded notes. So much for that. This happened like…every freaking year. Ah well. They always managed to come up with the scores by the end of the day.

_Good thing my arenas are top notch, _She thought smugly, _They won't fire me as long as that continues._

Claire was another dagger-thrower. She was most likely the worst of the knife wielders thus far. A frustrated scowl remained planted on her face during the entire process. Certainly not the most charming of expressions…

One of the other Gamemakers, who had succeeded in becoming heavily intoxicated, started loudly complaining about the tributes only ever using knives. Others tried to convince him that there were _plenty _of other weapons used by tributes, but he was hearing none of it.

"So sikka wampones…" He droned on and on, "Dudn't anyone have sum critivvy?!"

A handful of Gamemakers tried to decipher what he was saying while others gave up on him, turning their attention to the tanned boy that came through the door. He stood there, staring at the crowd, waiting for them to acknowledge him. The Head Gamemaker nodded to him, but he continued to wait patiently for their full attention.

"Hey!" The Head Gamemaker hissed, shooting a glare at her drunken friends, "He's not going to start till you shut it, apparently."

After some chuckling, everyone settled down and turned their attention to Al. As soon as he was sure everyone was watching, he reached into his pockets and began to pull all sorts of things out…

Slingshot ammo, some flint, a paint brush from the camouflage station. Then he untucked his shirt and shook it. Silverware from the 11th floor dining room came clattering out. The Gamemakers just watched in silence.

Al pointed to the pile of stolen goods in front of him, declaring, "Suck on _that_." Then he turned to march out of the room. Before he was out the door, a trainer pulled him aside to pat him down. He discovered some fishhooks hidden in the depths of Al's wiry hair and confiscated them. Then he sent the thief on his way.

The Gamemakers were not amused.

_Our suffering is almost over…! _The Head Gamemaker wanted to scream. But she kept her composure as Quinoa came in, looking rather terrified at the sight of the strange Gamemakers.

After swallowing her fear, she selected a scythe. She fought a trainer, but it was clear to see he was going easy on her. The two appeared to be moving in slow motion. There was no real victor; eventually, Quinoa just lowered her scythe and gave a meaningful look towards her judges.

The Head Gamemaker gave her the okay to leave. _One more district!_

Seyuto snuck into the room so quietly that no one noticed him at first. Then he bellowed, "EY YO MY LOVELY-LOOKIN' GAMERS! Y'all ready for some Seyuto action?!"

The Gamemaker nearly leaped out of her seat in shock. Then she groaned inwardly. _Oh God, no. Please no more rapping. Please let it be over. _

Unfortunately, 'no more rapping' didn't exist within Seyuto's vocabulary. He sang a quick ditty basically on how he was going to rock their world with his mad skills. Then he snatched a dagger and began attacking a trainer. The trainer quickly grabbed a dagger of his own to defend himself with, but Seyuto wasn't holding back.

He forced the trainer to go on the defensive and actually proved to be quite skilled. Perhaps that's what came from being a street fighter.

At the end, Seyuto thanked them eloquently.

"No," The Head Gamemaker said, smiling wearily, "Thank _you_."

"Damn straight." Seyuto said, smirking. Then he turned and moonwalked out of the room, leaving everyone wondering what had just happened.

Finally, _finally_, it was time for the last tribute. Rina decided on the exact same thing as Seyuto to demonstrate her close combat skills. The Head Gamemaker sat in her seat, quivering, desperate to just spring up and run out of the room.

Not even ten seconds later, she did just that. "Okay, you're done!" She called down to Rina, leaping up, "Great job! That's all for today!"

Rina just stood there looking surprised, while the Head Gamemaker made her exit, declaring, "I'm outta here! If you want to continue the party, we're taking it to a new location. I can't stand to be in here one more second."

**Oh yes. Putting poll stuff here because the author's note up there was long enough. There's a new one that Asami came up with and Lotus should get credit for the favorite alliances one before and Cole for the favorite pet poll. Speaking of which, here are the results for favorite alliances...**

**1st The Catadromous Bums with 9 votes**

**2nd The Skinny-Dippers with 8 votes**

**3rd Mitch x Radio OTP with 7 votes**

**4th The 43rd Careers with 6 votes**

**5th Zapi and the 42nd Careers with 5 votes**

**6th The Deadbeats and the Goody-Two Shoed Misfits with 4 votes**

**7th Nobody likes Beatriss/Emmett so...0 votes  
**

**I bet some people will be acquiring a new favorite alliance during these Games. I know I did. XD The favorite characters poll will be after the one that is currently up. :)**


	17. Scores

**Hey guys…I have some bad news.**

**I've just been feeling really down and out lately. Writing this story has become more like a chore than anything and I just don't get any enjoyment out of it. Life is short enough, so why bother wasting time on it like this if it's not making me happy? I really tried there for a while, but I can't slog my way through the chapters any longer. And I'm completely dried up on ideas as well. I've just hit a block I can't get past, I'm afraid. **

**Another thing. I feel like there's a good amount of people that read this and don't review. It's like they purposely don't want me to know they're enjoying the story because they don't like me or something and it makes me sad. They all manage to keep up with the story and even vote in the poll, but they can't say "good job" when it only takes five seconds to do so.**

**To anyone who HAS taken the time to review, I really appreciate it. Really. I'm glad my stories have been a hit until now, but I'm done. I need to leave this fictional realm behind and do something that matters. Since it's already been written, I might as well give you one last chapter before I go. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Again, thanks for all your support. **

**-Hoprocker**

**District 1**

It was evening in the Capitol. Five minutes until 8 o'clock primetime. Capitolites would be gathered around their TVs either in their homes or out on the streets, where large blown-up images were projected on the sides of buildings. Currently, Caesar Flickerman's image filled every crevice of the Capitol as he counted down the minutes until the scores would be revealed. His red-tinged wig and makeup made him look almost demonic, but his perfect white smile was dazzling as always.

Jade was currently pacing on the first floor of their hotel, biting her nails. She could hear the excited voices of the Capitolites filtering through an open window. Did the citizens place bets on which scores they thought the tributes would receive? It seemed silly, but it was possible. She wondered what they were saying about her. Surely, her odds were high?

She snuck a glance at Ian. He was sprawled across the sofa, somehow managing to take up all three cushions with his long limbs. His unfazed expression grated on Jade's nerves. Their mentors, stylists, and escort were hovering nearby, watching the TV intently.

Caesar was now against a dark backdrop; the cheerful music that had been playing moments ago faded out. It was time to get serious.

"Here we go." Ian sang, running a hand through his hair. His name would be up first.

"Our first tribute…Obsidian Shaw." Caesar said, looking gravely at his audience, "With a score…of 8."

"WHAT?!" Ian burst out, instantly on his feet, eyes wide and hair askew. "Are you _kidding _me? Is this some kind of _joke_?"

Jade just stared at her district partner, shocked at his outburst. But he quickly composed himself, patting his hair back in place.

"I guess the Gamemakers just don't know talent when they see it." Ian said dramatically.

"Didn't you show them your main weapon?" Jade said, trying to keep from smirking.

"No. I tried to change it up a bit, but I suppose my efforts went unappreciated." Ian shrugged.

"An 8 is fine, Ian." Channa told him, "We can work with that. Now stop complaining and let's see what Jade got…"

As if on cue, a large 10 swept across the screen. Jade felt a thrill of delight as her team erupted into a small amount of cheering. Ian's brow furrowed slightly and he sunk back down into his seat, but this only heightened Jade's feelings of triumph.

"Well done, Jade. You scored even better than I did." Channa said matter-of-factly.

Jade positively glowed at her mentor's praise. "I know 12 is the best…" She admitted, "And my parents wouldn't be happy with anything but that. And yet—"

"Who cares what they think? You scored a perfect ten and that's that. I doubt anyone can beat that!" Channa declared. "Unless District 2 has some nasty tricks up their sleeve…"

**District 2**

One floor above, Xander and Sagitta were eagerly seated in front of the TV, quaking with excitement. Sagitta hated to admit that Jade's score impressed her. Beating a ten was unlikely, as anything higher hadn't been given out in the past few years.

Suddenly, Xander's image appeared on the TV and he let out a cry of joy. A bold 9 flashed across the screen as Caesar reported his score. He sprang to his feet and pumped the air with his fist. "Looks like no one can resist…my _nine_chucks!" He said with a sly grin.

Sagitta crossed her arms and gave him a withering look. "…Excuse you?"

"I used nunchucks in my demonstration for the Gamemakers. And then I scored a nine." Xander explained, his smile stretching wider and wider. "Get it now?"

_I'd have to be stupid not to. _Sagitta rolled her eyes. "How long were you waiting to use that one?"

"Thought it up on the spot. It's a gift." Xander chuckled, plopping back down onto the sofa.

Sagitta perked up as Caesar announced, "Sagitta Costella…scoring a 10."

She kept a smooth expression—she didn't want to look like a fool in front of Xander—but on the inside, she was pleased. Still, it would have been nice to beat out Jade. But she knew she was better anyways. And the Capitol would be able to witness it for themselves when the Hunger Games rolled around.

Xander, on the other hand, couldn't stop smiling. His family was probably laughing at him right now. They would have wanted him to attain the highest score out of all the Careers. But he was happy with a 9. Not only did he get a great joke out of it…but it was different from his father's score.

Maybe if he kept this up and made them realize that he was his own individual, they would stop comparing the two of them all the time.

**District 3**

"Up next we have Wiley Corr, with a score of…1."

"…_One_?" Spark repeated, turning her furious gaze on Wiley, "How did you manage to score a _one_?"

Wiley just sat there, twiddling his thumbs, guilt written all over his face. "I…err…well, a-at least I stayed under the radar like you said to, now didn't I?" He said, trying to force a smile.

Spark narrowed her eyes. "Don't try to use my words against me. You still should have tried to score decently so that the sponsors would at least consider us. Now what did you _do_?"

Wiley let out a long sigh. "Oh, fine! I tried to build a fire by using just my glasses, but I _kinda _forgot that I needed the sun for it. Just slipped my mind. Oh! And I spent a good deal of time trying to get the Gamemakers to turn around, but they insisted on watching me. Made me nervous, it did. I blame them for everything that went wrong."

"Who do you think you are? Piggy?" Spark snorted.

Wiley stared at her blankly.

Spark rolled her eyes, smirking a little bit. "It's from _Lord of the Flies_, but I doubt _you've _ever read it. It's—"

"Spark Fusion Watson: scoring a 4!"

Giving a small gasp, Spark turned her attention to the TV. "Only a four? I _so _deserved higher than a four! That's so unfair!"

Wiley let out a soft laugh. "Luckily I'm here to make you look good, eh, lady? Ahaha…yeah, not that that's a good thing. For me."

A dull pain shot caused Spark's head to throb. Another migraine was coming on. She had been battling these darned things for the past week, every time she felt stressed. "I'm so sick of this!" She groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I want to go home already."

Wiley didn't offer her any more comfort. After all, who _didn't _want to go home?

**District 4**

_District 3 only scored a one? _Zale thought smugly, _How is it even possible to score so low? A five-year old could do better._

Unspeaking, Zale and Meredith patiently waited for their scores to be revealed. Zale knew he hadn't been at his best, so he wasn't too surprised when Caesar announced he had gotten a 7.

So he had scored the lowest of the Careers. So he wasn't perfect. So what? Everyone would underestimate him and never see him coming. He would take every last tribute down. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Meredith, wanting to see her reaction to her score…

"Meredith Calaghan…with a score of 8." Caesar said in a smooth voice.

The corners of Meredith's lips turned down in a deep frown. She suddenly felt very annoyed. _I should have tried harder to show my stuff to the Gamemakers. _She thought, cursing inwardly. Instead, she had been too busy dealing with Career drama and talking to those numbskulls instead of sorting through her many skills.

"Upset?" Zale mused.

Meredith blinked away her irritation and tried to face Zale with a smooth face. "Of course not."

Zale rolled his eyes. "_Sure_. It's written all over your face."

Meredith gritted her teeth. Zale was usually good company—heck, when you compared him to the other Careers, he was practically an angel to have around. But she couldn't stand it when he started acting all high and mighty, trying to show off his talent when it came to reading micro expressions or some crap like that.

Taking a deep breath, Meredith answered calmly, "Fine, I won't deny that I'm a bit upset that I scored lower than the others. But in the end, I know it has nothing to do with who wins the Games."

Zale nodded approvingly. "Exactly."

**District 5**

Things had been awkward between Isaac and Vera ever since she had left him for Barrett. They watched the scoring in silence. When it was discovered that they had both acquired 4's, both couldn't help feel disappointed.

For the first time in days, Vera spoke to Isaac, letting out a heavy sigh. "I suppose I shouldn't have selected knife-throwing, especially since our district followed the Careers. It must not have been too impressive. What did you do?"

Isaac pondered whether or not to answer her for a moment. _Well…she may not be my ally, but that doesn't make her an enemy. _"I did the same as you." He admitted.

"So have you found an alliance of your own?"

The question caught Isaac off guard. "No." He said, avoiding Vera's gaze, "I've spoken to a few people, but…it seems like I'll be going it alone. There can only be one victor, in the end."

"Right." Vera said, "Well, if you _do _decide you want one in the arena, I've been watching other tributes in training and there seems to be a pretty nice alliance forming in District 6. They might welcome you and they seem relatively normal."

_Which is why you haven't joined them, I'm sure. They're not unstable enough for you. _Isaac thought, disgruntled. A feeling of loneliness abruptly swallowed him and Gregory popped into his mind.

Isaac got up and headed to his room, uninterested in seeing the remaining scores. Vera made a soft "hmph," as if she disproved his cutting off the conversation, but he didn't care.

_I wonder what Gregory thinks if he's watching? _Isaac practically collapsed on his bed and lay there with his eyes closed. His prep team had cleaned him up a fair bit. He still wasn't the most attractive boy out there, but at least his face was free of acne and his hair was shiny and lustrous. But Gregory probably didn't even care about his changed appearance. Maybe he refused to watch the Games because he found his former friend so appalling. His mother probably wasn't watching either. Was anyone watching?

Misery clutched at Isaac's heart and he could feel tears welling underneath his eyelids. Maybe it was a good thing if no one was watching; then they wouldn't have to see him die.

He didn't like dwelling on these thoughts, but they nagged at him every day. He just wanted to forget all of these depressing memories and sleep…so that's exactly what he did.

**District 6**

"Piston Mills of District 6 scoring a _9_."

"Whoa!" Piston burst out, clapping his hands. "A nine?!"

Viola just stared at the screen, mildly shocked. "But didn't you say you just threw some stuff around…?" She asked in a quiet voice.

"I guess the Gamemakers were impressed by my brute strength." Piston laughed, unable to resist flexing his muscles.

"Well…congratulations, Piston." Viola said, trying to smile, "But aren't you nervous that you scored better than some of the Careers?"

"Why should I be?" Piston scoffed, "Those guys are all bark and no bite anyways."

"No they're not!" Viola tried to protest, but Piston cut her off.

"_Look_. It's not as if we can change the score anyways. You're just gonna have to trust me when I say I can handle myself."

Viola searched his light brown eyes. They were warm, the color of tree bark. "I trust you, Piston." She murmured, "You're the only person I _can _trust, I think."

Piston frowned slightly. "What about Rina? She seems pretty nice to me."

At the mention of Rina's name, Viola could feel her chest tighten with suspicion. The District 12 girl gave her a bad feeling for some reason. Perhaps it was just because she was careful to trust others, or maybe it was just the fact that Piston seemed smitten with her as soon as he laid eyes on her. Either way, Rina didn't rub her the right way.

But Piston couldn't possibly understand. So Viola just changed the subject, motioning to the screen as her score popped up.

_6._

Piston beamed at her. "Great job!"

"Thanks!" Viola responded cheerfully. And though she was smiling on the outside, she still couldn't shake these ominous feelings of what was to come.

**District 7**

"Barrett, are you coming out?" Athena called, rapping on his door repeatedly, "Come on, they're nearly to District 7…don't you want to see your score?"

Barrett ignored Athena. He was sitting in his bed, his eyes scrunched shut, his body trembling all over. Earlier, Echo had said she wanted to go visit Vera. Barrett had tried to reason with her, telling her that Vera couldn't see her, but she would hear none of it. And so he had sent her on her way with Alpha and Omega as her chaperones. After they left, he had reveled in the peaceful silence.

He hadn't counted on a visit from The Hands.

It was perhaps one of his rarest and most mysterious visitors. And by far, it was the most terrifying. Barrett was used to his deceased sister's unsettling presence. Even The Harlot, who invoked a certain kind of horror that he couldn't put a name to, would have been more welcome than The Hands.

Out of the corners of his eyes, Barrett could see long, bone-white fingers reaching around both sides of his head as if to cover his eyes. He could feel something rasping in his ears as well, breathing down his neck. But whenever he turned his head to look, the hands would vanish and the breathing would stop. Then it would start again, as soon as he least expected it.

The best way to deal with it was to squeeze his eyes shut and keep up a continuous stream of nonsensical muttering.

"Barrett!" Athena called again, from the other side of his door, "Barrett, you got a 6!"

No response. Athena felt a chill crawl up her spine, wondering what he could possibly doing in there. _He's not dead, is he? _She thought fearfully.

_Don't be silly, Athena. _She chided herself, trying to force a laugh. _Who just dies in their room without any warning at all? Barrett seems a likely candidate but…stop it! Stop thinking ridiculous thoughts._

Taking slow breaths to calm herself, she forced herself to walk away from the door and see what her final score was.

_4._

"Darn it!" She muttered, "How did Barrett beat me?!"

**District 8**

"District 8. Flick Fawley, scoring a 5."

Flick just tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch, looking uninterested.

Thimble felt a little bit annoyed. "Did you hear your score?" She questioned.

Flick nodded. "Yeah. It's nice." He was exactly where he wanted to be. He didn't want to become a target, but at the same time he wanted to show his sponsors that he wasn't totally useless.

"What did you do?" Thimble pressed. Since their conversation was kept to a minimum, they hadn't discussed it before now.

But Flick merely smiled mysteriously. "It's a secret."

"It doesn't have to be. Tell me."

"No."

"Please?" Thimble said, deciding to pull out the big guns. She widened her eyes innocently and tried to appear smaller than she was.

"No." Flick repeated.

"Fine. Like I care…"

Silence stretched between the two of them. They watched Caesar pull up Thimble's score—a not too impressive 3. Before Flick could say anything to demean her, Thimble thought of something else.

"So I see you've got an alliance with the girl from District 11?" She said, turning to her partner.

He visibly stiffened up. A muscle on his face spasmed. "No, I don't."

"Sure," Thimble snorted disbelievingly, "Well, to each his own. I'd only join an alliance with someone if they were competent."

Flick almost sprang to Quinoa's defense, thinking Thimble was trying to insult her. But then he realized he didn't really know anything about Quinoa. She was only following him around like some sort of lost child. For all he knew, she could be some psycho serial killer planning to murder him.

Flick felt a twinge of amusement at the thought of the shy girl murdering someone. As if that would ever happen.

**District 9**

Thanks to holding back, Rowan earned himself a 6. Hopefully, his efforts were enough to get a kama put into the Cornucopia. He would definitely manage to avoid the Careers' hit list with a number like that. As for Aluma's score…

"3." Caesar said in a clear voice.

Rowan waited for the explosion.

"…Only a three?" Aluma said in a quiet voice lined with grief.

Rowan turned to stare at Aluma in surprise. Her good eye was wrought with devastation. Her posture was slumped. It was like looking at a completely different person.

Aluma let out a long sigh. "I was tired anyways."

Rowan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "…Are you okay?"

Shockingly, Aluma didn't have a very strong reaction to his question. She just shrugged and said in a sad voice, "Training's over. We have all of the skills we're going to get. Tomorrow is the interview and then it's our last night alive."

Rowan could practically feel hopelessness radiating off of her. "Not if we make it through the first day in the arena." He pointed out.

"What are the odds of that?" Aluma said bitterly. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, all of her sorrow vanished and she brightened up considerably. "At least we still have a few more delicious meals to look forward to!"

"…Okay?" Rowan said blankly, wondering what had just happened.

Aluma tried to smile. She had been looking into the future just now—something she never did. The future only contained grief and death. She had to remind herself to live in the moment, something she had done every day until now. Besides, she still had a day or two to enjoy herself.

"Too bad there's not a ball this year!" She said cheerfully, "Then we could pull the same stunt last year's tributes did and get the Games postponed."

The skin around Rowan's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Yeah, no thanks. Then we would have to dance with each other."

**District 10**

"A six?" Buck said, eyes widening as his score panned across the TV. A grin broke out on his face. "Well damn! Sure wasn't expectin' that!"

Claire could feel jealousy filling her up inside. "You got a _six _for cooking meat?" She hissed, hardly believing it. "Is that really what you did? You're not lying, are you?"

"Maybe I got points for creativity. Ever think of that?" Buck said proudly.

Claire opened her mouth to respond, but then Caesar was declaring her score. "Claire Dillon with…a 3."

Buck smirked. "Well…at least it ain't the lowest score." He said, stifling a laugh.

"What will sponsors think?!" Claire practically wailed, "I can't help it I'm not on steroids like all of those stinking Careers! I can't help that I'm used to cutting food and not people! "

"So you shouldn't have tried to be something yer not." Buck said quietly.

"I don't need _you _of all people to lecture me." Claire replied stiffly.

Buck held his hands up in mock surrender. "All right, yer majesty. But if I may…I'd like to point at that this ain't over yet. You still have the interviews to make the Capitol love you." He let out a derisive laugh. "Good luck with that, by the way."

Claire tried to glare at him, but Buck wasn't too intimidated since she was so much shorter than him. "I bet I can get more sponsors than you." She said before she could stop herself.

Buck arched an eyebrow. "I'm willin' to take that bet. Too bad there ain't no compensation we can use to make things more interesting."

"I didn't actually _mean _that." Claire said quickly, "I was just using an expression. I don't place bets. Gambling is uncouth!"

"Then it suits me just fine." Buck chuckled and Claire could see that he wouldn't soon forget her little slip.

**District 11**

"My turn!" Al said eagerly, rubbing his hands together as his grinning image faded onto the screen.

"Almond Frezno Jr…with a score of 1."

The number echoed hollowly throughout the room. Kalin, who was standing behind the couch that Al and Quinoa were seated at, just stared at the TV screen as if frozen. Quinoa just looked at Al for some sort of explanation.

"Guess they weren't a fan of my special talent." Al laughed.

Kalin gritted his teeth and clutched at his head. "_What?_ A one? _How on earth did you only get a one_? Didn't you use a weapon like I told you to?"

"Nope! Wasn't any good in the weapons department so I stole a bunch of stuff from the training center. Then I dumped it out on the floor and told them to suck it." Al grinned proudly.

Kalin was tempted to grab Al and start strangling some sense into him. "That's not what you do if you want to survive this thing!" He snapped, "Taunting the Gamemakers…that's like declaring a death wish!"

Al just shrugged, looking unconcerned, which only served to infuriate Kalin further. They were so busy arguing that neither of them noticed Quinoa's score pop up on the screen. _3._

She realized with a heavy heart that District 11 had the lowest combined score of all the districts. No wonder Kalin was so upset—they were making him look bad. Especially Al, as he had been assigned to Kalin in particular. Meanwhile, she was learning from the more experienced female mentor.

Still, Quinoa couldn't help feel a spark of admiration for Al's little act of rebellion. Of course, it was nothing compared to what she planned to say in her interview tomorrow.

She was going to make her brothers proud.

**District 12**

"And finally, District 12." Caesar said, reading through the final names with little difficulty, "Seyuto Yosuke Laresses…with a score of 7."

"Yeah!" Seyuto crowed, jumping to his feet and starting to dance, "What now?"

Rina looked away in disgust, crossing her fingers that she would score higher than him. Unfortunately, she was one point beneath him. Seyuto rejoiced, getting in her face and bragging about his skills with a dagger. She shoved past him and made a beeline to her room.

"A six is fine, Rina!" Her escort called after her, but she had already shut the door behind her.

Keeping her emotions bottled up these past few days was taking its toll on her. She felt completely drained. All she wanted to do was sleep, but she knew she had to keep her mind sharp for what was coming.

Settling down on her soft, comfortable bed, she let her mind drift to other things, such as her alliance. Viola and Piston were really something. Viola was so sweet and innocent, but had an incredible aim when it came to wielding a slingshot. And Piston emanated this aura of protectiveness. Rina knew she would do well to stick with them in the arena.

But she also knew that she'd have to say goodbye to them at some point…the thing was, she didn't plan on parting ways peacefully. So these past few nights, she conjured up images of the kind District 6 tributes laying dead on the ground, done away by her hand. She steeled herself against these images, preparing for what was coming.

If she won, everyone else had to die.

_No one lives forever._


	18. Interviews Part 1

**500 reviews! :D We're halfway to my goal! Thank you everyone who has helped to make this happen! I really appreciate it. :) In fact I was SO touched by your reviews that I decided to come back! Just kidding…(seriously though, some of them were pretty heartfelt. Can I just hug you guys?) **

**If you hadn't already figured it out, that last author's note was an April Fools joke. Haha! Did I get you? Raise your hand if you un-alerted the story because you thought I had seriously dropped it. Oh, you're probably not reading this if you did. I'm sorry for the cruel joke, but it was really fun seeing your range of reactions and seeing a few new faces come out of the shadows. XD I do feel bad I couldn't PM the guests though and let them in on the joke…**

**But you should know I wouldn't drop such a loved story! …I mean, at least not…well, there**_** was**_** that one story…and that other one…but I won't ever drop THIS one! Are you kidding, this is gonna be the best Games yet! And the arena is stinking awesome. And the tribute interactions are epic. They'll make you laugh, they'll make you cry, they'll make you actually want to leave a review if you haven't already…! **

**Umm yeah you should still totally review to keep my spirits up. In case they go down. :) But for the time being I'm just psyched because we're almost to summer and thus, the Games themselves. I'm hopeful a lot of people will pick it up when we reach the good stuff. In conclusion, I have plenty of ideas, I'm super excited to write the Games, and I'll drop the story when I'm dead. Or something like that. So if there are no updates…I'm dead. If there are no updates and I'm not dead, there'll surely be an explanation on my profile.**

**Now let the interviews begin!**

"Ladies and gentlemen, your master of ceremonies: Caesaaar Flickermaaan!"

Caesar faced the audience, a brilliant white smile lighting up his features. The audience burst into a round of cheering and screaming while Caesar rose from his chair, waving to his adoring fans.

"Thank you!" He called out, giving a small bow, "And welcome…to the 44th annual Hunger Gaaames!"

The noise doubled as Capitolites, insane with excitement, threw up their hands and clapped vigorously. A jazzy brass ensemble played the show theme at full volume for another minute while Caesar smiled and waved to everyone. Then, all at once, the sounds of the crowd faded. Everyone was eager to hear from the first tribute, which just so happened to be Jade.

_Confidence…confidence! _She kept repeating in her head, trying to remain poised and elegant. She was going on first. She _had _to start things with a bang. Of course, she already looked fairly memorable in her tight jade dress that hung off one shoulder and showed off her flawless legs. Her curled hair fell on the bare shoulder, the opposite one of the dress strap. She also wore gold shoes that laced up her long limbs and matched the strands in her hair that had been dyed. Her dark makeup made her look desirable, sharply contrasting with the rest of her sparkling body. But good looks were not enough. She had to wow them with her personality more than anything.

Suddenly, something tickled her ear. "You look amazing in that dress." Ian's voice whispered.

Jade nearly jumped out of her skin; she hadn't heard him come up. She turned around to make some snarky remark, but Ian in his black blazer and pants left her speechless. And of course, his hair always looked flawless. After finding her voice, she sneered, "Nice eyeliner."

"Thank you," Ian said, choosing to ignore the sarcasm, "I think it makes me look rather…enigmatic. Wouldn't you agree?"

But Jade had no time to respond, for Caesar was suddenly calling her name and she was hurrying out onto the stage, smiling and waving. _Confidence and seduction! _She reminded herself one last time before sitting down with the host.

"Jade…may I just say…you look _stunning_." Caesar said, beaming.

"Thank you, Caesar." Jade said, trying to copy Ian's seductive purr. It worked better than she thought it would. For extra oomph, she leaned forward slightly, giving her audience a better view of her cleavage. She could hear a few catcalls going up from the massive amount of people.

"So, Jade," Caesar said, getting right down to business, "I think we all enjoyed your little speech when you took on the honor of being District 1's female competitor…"

A round of cheers confirmed this.

"…but what made you want to leave your success-filled life to come here?" By the way his eyes sparkled, Caesar betrayed he already knew the answer to that.

Jade gave him what he was looking for. "I want to add Hunger Games victor to my long list of accomplishments." She told him compliantly.

"And you're quite sure you'll be able to do this?"

"Positive." Jade replied, tossing her hair, "I'd like to see anyone try to outshine me."

"As would I!" Caesar agreed in a jovial voice.

The audience cheered on cue, while Jade added, "If I'm going down, I'm going down fighting!"

When the volume had descended to a proper level, Caesar asked Jade if she was fairly popular among the men back home.

"Of course." Jade said, smirking a bit as if it were obvious, "You should have seen how many people were lined up to see me off." Then, for some reason, she found herself mentioning Chardonnay. She didn't know why. Perhaps she just wanted to brag about how she was the best friend of a victor's sister. At least Caesar seemed impressed by it, along with everyone else.

"Well, it's very nice that you were able to reforge your relationship with your best friend before you left," Caesar told Jade, taking her hand and holding it between two of his. "Jade Argent, everyone!"

Jade tilted her head and smiled endearingly at the audience as their cheering filled every orifice of their surroundings. Her heart swelled with pride as she left the stage and swept gracefully towards the front row, which had been reserved for tributes.

But just as she sat down, horror shook her to her roots. She hadn't mentioned Ian being her ex—he could ruin her, if he wanted to. If he brought up the fact that he had broken up with her, it would make her look undesirable and needy. Plus, Caesar would wonder why she hadn't mentioned it herself.

Very aware of the cameras that were still trained on her, Jade tried to appear calm, forcing a smile as Caesar shouted, "Let's meet the handsome Obsidian Shaw!"

Ian strutted onto the stage in his black getup.

Caesar started the interview with a compliment, then launched right into asking questions. "Now," He said in a steady voice, "District 1 hasn't had a male tribute win in more than ten years. Why do you think that is?"

Before answering, Ian flipped his bangs out of his face. Then he mused, "Well it's clear to see, Caesar, that we've been sending _boys_ and not _men_. I assure you that is not the case this year. Not only will I win and break that losing streak…but I will also become a legend."

The statement was so powerful that it warranted the greatest response from the audience yet. Ian turned his head out towards them and caught Jade's eye. _What's that you were saying? About no one being able to outshine you? _Ian thought smugly.

By the look on Jade's face, it was clear to see she knew what he was thinking. She glared at him, her cheeks turning a startling shade of red. Luckily, all of the focus was on Ian.

"So would you say you're destined to win?" Caesar asked eagerly.

Ian waved a hand, shaking his head. "Nah! Destiny is for losers. It's just a pathetic excuse to wait for things to happen instead of making them happen yourself. And _I _make things happen."

The audience was just eating this up. And the best part…it was so _simple_. Ian couldn't have felt more at ease.

"You seem very confident in your abilities." Caesar said, grinning, "I, personally, am very excited to see you in action tomorrow. As I'm sure the rest of Panem is…?"

A roar went up from the crowd, confirming his question. Ian reached up and flipped his hair once more, stating, "As you all should be!"

Caesar hushed the audience quickly, telling them that they had time for a few more questions. Then, he voiced the question Jade was dreading. "You know, a little birdy told me that you and Jade have a history together. Anything you could expound on for us…?"

Ian turned his gaze to Jade, who was clutching the edge of her dress. She bit her lip nervously, waiting for him to destroy her image she had worked so hard to attain.

"Oh, yes." He said smoothly, "Speaking of Jade, I found something she said in her interview quite interesting."

"And what's that?"

Ian hesitated for a few long seconds. Then he cleared his throat and told everyone, "The part where she said her best friend Chardonnay came to make amends with her…you see, there was a bit of a love triangle going on with the three of us and…well, you know how that goes." He smiled devilishly. "Anyways, her so-called best friend told me to kill her. Before she kills me. How amusing…"

The atmosphere was suddenly so silent that you could have heard a pin drop. Jade was frozen in her seat, shocked. Over and over, her mind raged, _I should have known! _Chardonnay had always been one to hold grudges. She never would have stepped forward to apologize like that and ask for her friend back. She was just covering her tracks, putting herself on good terms with both tributes so that she would have a good relationship with whoever returned as the victor!

Jade barely noticed the buzzer ring. She didn't snap out of her trance until Ian was sitting beside her, murmuring, "She could have been lying to _me_, you know."

"No…" Jade whispered, her throat raw with grief at the betrayal, "She only told you to kill me. Not the other way around."

Ian gave a light sigh. "Luckily for you, I'm not one of those whipped boyfriends that fulfills every single one of his girlfriend's whims."

"Whatever." Jade said, trying to pretend she was absorbed in the next interview. Ian seemed to sense the conversation was over and turned his attention to the stage as well.

Sagitta was crossing it in her long, pale blue dress made of silk. A crown with decorative stars rested on her dark head of hair. She resembled a princess with an air of regality as she let Caesar take her hand. She briefly recalled how her stylist had wanted to put her in something more provocative. But she wasn't about to let the Capitol make her into some sort of sleazy backseat bimbo.

"It's very nice to finally speak with you, Sagitta," Caesar said, smiling at her.

She didn't return it.

"How does it feel, having one of the highest scores of this year's tributes?"

Sagitta's lips tightened as she refused to say a word. She didn't like Ceasar Flickerman instantly; she didn't like how everyone swooned over him and praised him like he was some sort of god. She almost didn't want to speak to him.

"I think someone's a little nervous!" Caesar chuckled, trying to ease the tension.

"No." Sagitta responded in a strong voice, "I'm not."

"Oh, good, good. I'm sorry for saying otherwise! Let's talk Hunger Games, shall we?"

"Fine." Sagitta said, her voice as cold as ice.

"What do you think of this year's competition?" Caesar asked, smartly directing the conversation away from herself, "Are there any competitors that have caught your eye?"

"No."

"None?"

"None."

"Well, folks. There you have it!" Caesar declared, and everyone started laughing.

Sagitta felt a twinge of annoyance. Nothing fazed him, did it? Suddenly, she had an idea that would make all of the lesser tributes backstage shudder. "I'm looking forward to the Bloodbath." She offered.

"Oh yes?" Caesar said, looking mildly surprised that Sagitta was abruptly taking part in the conversation, "I won't hesitate to agree with you that it's one of the most thrilling part of the Games!"

"Right." Sagitta nodded stiffly, "If there's a good amount of blood spilt."

"Ah, yes, it's such an adrenaline rush! I couldn't agree more—"

"Last year's Bloodbath was shameful. Hardly any lives were taken." Sagitta said, seeking out a camera and staring directly into it with her piercing blue eyes. "This year…that won't be the case. I'll make sure of it."

"I like your spirit!" Caesar said, and the audience murmured agreement. "Is there anything you'd like to say before our time's up?"

Sagitta didn't remove her gaze from the camera. "All you need to know is that I'll be sitting here again quite soon…with a different crown. The victor's crown."

The audience finally burst into applause, accepting Sagitta with open arms. She didn't offer Caesar a second glance and made a beeline for her seat next to Ian. He welcomed her with a sly smile, but she ignored him.

"Now let's meet…Xander Blaaack!" Caesar announced, throwing his left hand towards the tribute.

Xander practically came sprinting out, waving at the audience and tripping over a long, black cloak he wore. Before he could fall flat on his face, he shook off the black cloak, revealing a Victorian-esque outfit underneath. The frilly white shirt with ruffles and the tight black pants made the audience burst into hysterics.

"Hey." Xander greeted Caesar with a handshake, all the while fidgeting uncomfortably in his strange outfit.

"Everything all right?" Caesar questioned as they both took a seat.

"It's very itchy." Xander remarked, squirming uncomfortably in his chair. He scratched at his chest constantly, trying to relieve himself of this impossible itch. But it was a useless effort.

With a grin, Xander realized he had already failed his assigned angle. His mentor had told him, 'Go with the outfit your stylist made you. Be mysterious, be flirtatious…just be anything but _yourself_.'

Yeah. That wasn't about to happen.

"So what is it that you got? A score of nine? Very impressive." Caesar said with a wide grin.

Xander matched his smile. "Yeah, that's right! I used my ninechucks!"

Caesar pulled a comical face, causing their onlookers to laugh. "What was that? I must have misheard you…"

"No one told you? I use ninechucks—I mean, nunchucks!" Xander declared, reaching back to scratch ferociously at his back.

"You're not supposed to talk about what went on with the Gamemakers…but don't worry. I'll keep your secret." Caesar said slyly, putting a finger up to his lips.

Xander nodded and narrowed his eyes, looking from side to side as if checking for eavesdroppers.

The audience was cracking up, loving every moment of Caesar and Xander's comedy routine. After a minute or so, Caesar decided it was time to get serious and completely changed the tone of the interview. He started by asking about his family.

Xander's smile faded. "My family?" He said with a dry chuckle, "They're very…hardcore. Actually, I prefer the company of my friends, Theo and Severn." He looked warmly into a camera. "Miss you guys!"

Caesar asked for one more statement before the interview wrapped up.

"Okay…" Xander said, pretending to think about it hard, "So! Maybe I'm not a picture-perfect Career, but I've still got a good chance of winning this thing."

The loud response of the Capitolites showed that they agreed. The two male Careers had absolutely smitten their audience with their charm—and the girls knew it. But now, it was time to hear from a non-Career district.

Spark almost didn't want to go out there. She knew her interview would be pathetic in comparison to those that came before hers. And her outfit was positively _atrocious_, in her eyes.

Her mentor had been trying to get her to go for the 'ditzy, clueless girl' angle the entire time she had been in the Capitol. It must have been thanks to her slow reaction at the Reaping. Great. Apparently, this feat would cause her to be overlooked by the rest of the tributes and be seen as less of a threat. Not that she was in the first place.

To accentuate this awful angle, her stylist had placed her in a strapless pink dress with a short, uneven hem up to her knees. The bottom half of the dress was extremely puffy with a nauseating amount of lace, ribbons, and bows. Her dark brown hair had been curled and pulled back with a huge bow and they had added in hair extensions as well.

The whole thing was ridiculous, in Spark's eyes. She looked like a giant, demented cupcake. And a giant, demented cupcake wasn't going to win the Hunger Games anytime soon.

As Caesar called her name, Spark had a small internal struggle on whether or not to stick with her assigned angle. She had sworn to be herself in the chariot ride, but she realized that the Capitol probably wouldn't like her then. _My mentor must know what she's talking about, right? _

And so she decided to stick with her angle. She forced a huge smile as Caesar shook her hand. "Hi!" She greeted, but it sounded so fake that she doubted anyone would buy it.

"Spark Fusion Watson." Caesar repeated, "Wow! That is some name!"

"Thank you!" Spark said, her cheeks already hurting from smiling so hard.

They sat down and began their interview. "So…have you been enjoying your time in the Capitol? I'm sure it's a lot different from District 3, isn't it?"

"Yeah! Like, a lot different." Spark said, the corners of her mouth twitching. She secretly hoped that no one could see her face having these awkward spasms. A long silence followed her words, as if Caesar expected her to elaborate, but she couldn't find any words.

"Are you looking forward to tomorrow?" Caesar asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, yeah! I'm so…_totally _looking forward to the Games."

"You're not nervous?"

"Nooo…why would I be nervous?" Sarcasm seeped into her tone. A few people in the crowd before them picked up on it and chuckled to themselves.

_I should have just been myself. _Spark thought regretfully, but it was too late to go back now.

Caesar asked her a few more questions and she basically had the same responses for him. She knew she was coming off as stupid, fake, and unmemorable. These three minutes felt more like three years. Spark wanted to scream when the buzzer sounded, run off the stage, and keep running.

_Now it's Wiley's turn to make a fool of himself. _Spark thought, shakily taking a seat by Xander.

"Let's bring out: Wiley Corr!" Caesar announced as the audience clapped respectfully.

After a few seconds of no show, Wiley stumbled out looking disheveled. He wore a spiffy white suit with a long tailcoat—in a way, it almost resembled a lab coat. He also wore a blue tie that glowed oddly under the stage lights.

"Wiley," Caesar greeted cordially, shaking the boy's hand, "Let's sit, shall we?"

"Love to." Wiley said, practically collapsing onto the plush chair. He reached up and wiped a bit of perspiration off his forehead.

"That's a very interesting outfit you have there…" Caesar said, nodding towards Wiley's get-up.

"Oh, yeah…" Wiley said, fiddling with his tie and smiling shyly, "My dad's a scientist…inventor…person. He's got his own facility and everything. Corr Industries."

Caesar snapped his fingers, causing Wiley to visibly flinch. "I knew your name sounded familiar!" Caesar declared, looking proud of himself, "Your father has so many creative ideas. Wasn't one of his projects…ah, wasn't he trying to invent a chip that would create simulated worlds so that Capitolites could compete in the Hunger Games and do all sorts of things?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's right." Wiley said, starting to look more relaxed as Caesar helped him along, "The chip had to be planted in the brain, but…well, serum would have been a better option in my, ah, _brilliantly_ valued opinion. Y'see, it was too difficult a procedure and some of the testers faced…complications." He winced.

"A real shame," Caesar sighed, "I think everyone would have been excited to enter a safe, simulated reality."

"The company may not be what it used to, but my dad's still got some stuff up his sleeve!" Wiley said quickly, "J-Just like I do for the Games! Aheh…heh…" With a heavy heart, Wiley realized he wasn't doing a very good job of coming off as a genius scientist shrouded in mystery.

"You know…it's really interesting that you have a Capitol accent. It's too good to be fake." Caesar mused.

Wiley blinked, wondering why everyone always had to bring that up. "My dad worked pretty closely with you—err, well not _you_, the Capitol I mean. He picked it up and it rubbed off on me I guess."

"Interesting! Well, we're nearly done here, so—"

"WAIT!" Wiley cried out.

Caesar's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "…Yes?"

Wringing his hands, Wiley faced the audience. "Um, I'd really appreciate it if—I dunno, if you're planning to sponsor me in the arena, err…ah, n-never mind."

A moment later, the buzzer went off, signaling the end of the interview. The audience clapped for Wiley, but curiosity was clear on their faces as they wondered what he was going to say.

Now it was Meredith's turn. She appeared (to the delight of many males) in a strapless, navy blue dress that hugged her body and barely reached the middle of her thigh. She also wore a pair of white-heeled sandals and a shiny pearl necklace. Her curly dark hair was let down, reaching to the middle of her neck.

Meredith wasn't nervous at all. She had her angle down well, having practiced it repeatedly with her mentor.

"Wow!" Caesar said, looking at Meredith with wide eyes, "The resemblance to your aunt is uncanny! Though I'm sure you've heard that before."

Meredith nodded. "I have, but it's all right. She and I are very alike." Her eyes narrowed slyly as she silently willed the audience to pick up on the double meaning.

After taking a seat, the first thing Caesar brought up was her score. She had been prepared for this, as it was a common question.

"It's a little lower than I would like," She admitted, folding her hands in her lap, "But do you really think a difference of a few extra points makes a difference in the Games? Because, in my opinion, training scores don't have a lot of long-term influence. I could easily make up for my training score later."

Caesar nodded approvingly at her wise answer and a portion of the audience clapped. "Right you are, Meredith. And how do you plan to do this?"

"Sorry, but I'm not telling you anything about my strategy. I'd prefer everyone here just wait and see for themselves what I have planned."

"You pique my interest." Caesar said, grinning, "But I won't pry. Let's talk about something else! Is there a lucky lad back in District 4, waiting for you…?"

"That's not really relevant to the Games, so I have no comments on that." Meredith said in a controlled voice.

"All right…" Caesar tapped his chin, thinking of something else to touch upon, "How about you tell me your thoughts on this year's competitors?"

"I'd be happy to tell you who I think my major competition is," Meredith said, sweeping her gaze over the audience, "To begin, there's no doubting the Career's strength. They're a well-endowed team and I couldn't be more pleased to be apart of them. As for the rest of the tributes…"

She turned to peer backstage where the long line of them was waiting. But all she saw was Zale, staring back at her with an unreadable expression.

"The boy from District 6…is certainly one to watch." She said carefully. "Otherwise, I don't think the rest of them will be a problem."

Caesar reached out and took her hand, squeezing it slightly. "Best of luck, Meredith. We'll be looking forward to finding out more about you within the confines of the arena."

"Thank you, Caesar, it was nice meeting you." She responded politely.

Meredith gracefully made her exit as Caesar introduced Zale, who was wearing a simple black suit. His face was devoid of emotion as he joined Caesar for the interview, but the audience seemed to like him well enough.

"Zale…" Caesar said slowly, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe you had an older sibling in the Games a few years back, didn't you?"

"Coral Covent. Tribute of the 36th Hunger Games." Zale confirmed in a monotone voice.

"I don't suppose you're here to avenge her?"

Zale's eyes narrowed slightly. Of course; there were always tributes entering the Games in order to avenge a lost loved one. He was just another part of their ranks. But Zale didn't want to be another nameless face. He wanted to do something that would set himself apart from the rest.

"So what if I am?" He said in a flat voice, "Does it matter?"

"No, I suppose not…" Caesar murmured.

"Either way, I'm still going to win. And when I do…well…" Zale's voice nearly cracked with grief, but he quickly composed himself. He was used to shutting out his emotions. But even eight years later, it was tough to think about his best friend. "Well, then Coral can rest easy."

Caesar nodded, his eyes warm. "Well said."

With that, Zale steered the conversation away from his sister and focused on the Games. He mentioned that Meredith was a worthy district partner and said that if he had to choose his death, he would choose to go out fighting.

"You're quite the young man," Caesar said, "Though there is one thing that has been bothering me…your training score…"

Zale let out a small snort. "_That_? That's nothing. Scores aren't important."

"I think many tributes would agree with that sentiment, but Capitolites do benefit from them. It helps determine odds and whatnot."

"Well, I'd like to say something, concerning my score." Zale declared, holding up a finger.

"Please do." Caesar replied, signaling towards the audience.

Zale's eyes were dead serious and he said in a strong voice, "Give me a room with a handful of weapons and I'll show you a seven. Give me an arena with twenty-three other tributes and I'll show you a _twelve_."

The audience gave him the proper response, screaming in admiration. "Zale Covent!" Caesar shouted, grabbing Zale's hand and raising it high. Zale's expression remained unchanged. As soon as the host let him go, he walked quickly to his seat in the audience.

Vera replaced him in a petite ivory dress that glittered in the light. Her dark hair had been taken out of her usual bun and now reached down to her shoulders. Her mentor had told her to lighten up and appear a little bit less severe than she usually was. She had also begged her to keep from diagnosing Caesar, as he was perfectly fine. Vera took this advice to heart, since she knew how important it was to appeal to the audience.

"Vera! How nice to meet you." Caesar said as they sat down for their three-minute session. "How are you?"

"Fine…a little homesick." Vera answered hesitantly, feeling stiff and uncomfortable in her chair, "Um, how are you?"

"I'm just fantastic! But I certainly can relate to feeling homesick. Can you tell us about your family?"

She frowned slightly, thinking of her parents. She didn't quite know what Caesar wanted to hear. So she simply said, "I'm very close with my brother Isaac."

"I see. Isn't your district partner named Isaac as well?"

"Yes, he is. Umm…"

Caesar looked at Vera inquiringly, as if waiting for her to expound on her family.

"My mother's a psychiatrist." She said, stammering slightly.

"Ooh. And how does that make you feel?" Caesar asked, leaning forward in his seat and resting his chin on his enfolded hands. The audience burst out laughing at the silly impersonation.

But before Vera could stop herself, she snapped, "Who cares how I feel?" A learned response to her mother's infuriating remarks.

Caesar recoiled a bit, pretending to look hurt. "Why, all of Panem does, my dear." He said, sweeping an arm towards the audience in a grand gesture.

They clapped in response, trying to assure Vera of their love for her. But like all of the tributes had realized by now, the love of the Capitolites was short-lived and shallow. No one truly cared. Not a whit.

Vera left the stage, knowing this in her heart. As she headed towards the steps that led to her assigned seat, she caught a glimpse of Isaac waiting to go on. She had seen him earlier, but she still couldn't get over how strange he looked.

His hair had been done up in a large point, the tip of it dyed an electric blue, which matched his double-breasted blazer. The jacket had large protruding shoulder pads, making him appear more muscular than he was. To top it off, his pants had been covered in rhinestones and he had on fierce, dark makeup. At least it was memorable.

"My, don't you look sharp this evening!" Caesar said grandly, taking Isaac's hand in his own.

Isaac's eyebrows (which had also been dyed blue) crinkled slightly, as if he seriously doubted Caesar's words. To be honest, he was terrified to be standing here in front of so many people in such an odd-looking outfit. The fact that he had to speak made it ten times worse. Even though he had prepared an angle, he still had no idea what Caesar was going to ask him.

_Suck it up, Isaac. _He told himself firmly, _You're not the only one going through this._

"Thanks, Caesar." He said, trying to smile a bit, "So do you."

"Really? You think so?" Caesar gasped, pretending to fuss with his hair, "I'm not sure if red is my color."

"Oh, come on. You look great!" Isaac said, letting the sarcasm ring clear in his voice. As soon as he said it, he turned his head slightly towards the audience and pulled a face. Laughter reached his ears and Isaac couldn't help smile a little bit. He let a sorry slip out, but Caesar waved a hand, dismissing it.

"You're right. Maybe I should take some fashion advice from your stylist." The host said, regarding Isaac's electric blue suit.

"Only if you ever want to look like a pencil." Isaac said, reaching up and poking at the tip of his hair, "…I'm so sharp, I might just cut myself."

Caesar couldn't help but chuckle along with the audience on that one. Isaac relaxed in his seat, feeling calm and confident. The Capitolites weren't so bad. It was hard not to judge them, but at least they were supportive.

After that, Caesar turned the conversation to Isaac, letting him talk about his family for a little bit. He left out the part of his mother's instability, but he made sure everyone knew how much he loved them.

"I'd really like to get back to them." He said sincerely.

"Are there any other relationships we ought to know about?" Caesar asked in a friendly voice. It was an innocent question, really. The Capitol ate up romance and he was just trying to unearth a little bit of it.

But it completely threw Isaac's momentum off. His eyes widened and his palms suddenly felt sweaty. He opened his mouth to answer the question, but no sound came out.

_Should I tell them about Gregory? _He wondered. But he had no idea how the Capitol would feel about his interest in a male. By the way they dressed, they seemed fairly liberal. Perhaps they were more tolerant than those in the districts. Perhaps it would make him memorable and garner him some support from the community. He needed all the help he could get.

Maybe if he spoke of how wonderful Gregory had been to him, they would understand. He could turn it into a heart-touching story.

But then the buzzer rang, putting an end to the long stretch of silence. Isaac's heart fell. He felt the interview had ended on a terrible note. Caesar's unanswered question hung in the air as Isaac shook his hand one last time and headed to his seat, feeling upset.

Luckily, the audience's attention had already shifted to Viola. The small Asian girl stepped out in a sleeveless black dress that sparkled slightly with each of her movements. On the left side of her chest was a giant, silver-sprayed flower with straps attached to it, which went over one shoulder and on to the rest of the dress. Her hair was greased and tied back in a stiff, tight ponytail. Her makeup was flawless as well, with dark eye shadow, rosy cheeks, and pink lips. She almost looked like a petite, ornamental doll.

Viola was all ready to go for the classic image of a sweet, innocent 12-year old. But just because she was doing this without any complaints didn't mean she liked it. In her heart, she hated the Capitol. They looked unnatural, with all of their strange dyes and plastic surgery. They reminded her of a freak show that had come to District 6 when she was a little girl.

But this time, she was the exhibition to be ogled at.

She tried to ignore their noise and just focus on Caesar, who seemed friendly enough. "Hello." She said shyly.

"It's so nice to meet you, Viola." He said kindly, "Shall we?"

They sat down and he immediately complimented her on her outfit.

"Thank you." Viola replied politely, "I think it matches my token."

"Your token…" Caesar mused, "Would you happen to have your token on you?"

Viola nodded and shifted slightly so everyone could see the pendant hanging around her neck. The bronze tree flashed in the light. "You can't quite see it, but the tree is surrounded by flowers." She explained.

"Oh, that's very nice. Very pretty. Did your mother give that to you?" Caesar said, giving the young tribute a genuine smile.

"Yes, she did." Viola said, turning it in her hands fondly, "…Can I tell you what it means?"

"Go right ahead!" Caesar said, leaning back in his chair and waiting for Viola to explain the pendant to him.

"It's the Tree of Life," Viola told everyone in a level voice, "It means a lot to me because…it shows my love for nature and how I want all of the districts to go green one day. If I were victor, I would make sure that each and every town had plants growing in it!"

There was an audible, "Aww!" from the crowd of Capitolites. A few began to applaud, but instantly quieted as Viola continued her speech.

"But that's not all. Because I know—when the Tree of Life dies and crumbles, it becomes nutrition for future descendants. Like the flowers that grow in its shade. They'll thrive off of its nutrition left in the earth. Because you see…good things can come out of death too. Death makes us stronger because memories of our loved ones will make us motivated to fulfill our lives."

The noise from the Capitol grew and grew. By the end of her spiel, everyone was clapping or laughing. Viola sat there, feeling confused and a little bit disturbed. Everyone seemed to think that she had been saying the Hunger Games was a great thing…but that's not what she had been getting at. Not at all.

"Yes, it makes us stronger indeed." Caesar said, patting Viola's shoulder, "Thank you so much for your insight, Viola. We'll be rooting for you."

As Viola exited and Piston entered, he flashed her a quick thumbs-up. Even in a steel-colored suit, he still looked rather threatening with his broad shoulders and crooked nose. He greeted Caesar in a boisterous manner, the two of them shaking hands vigorously. Then Piston cracked his knuckles and prepared to charm the pants of the Capitol.

"So I see you and Viola are getting along? That's always nice." Caesar smiled.

"Yeah. She's a good kid. It's great having her around." Piston caught Viola's eye in the audience. She smiled slightly, her rosy cheeks turning even redder than they already were.

"I always like to see the tributes getting on well with one another." Caesar admitted, "You must have younger siblings at home, eh?"

"Ehh…" Piston shrugged a shoulder, "Let's not talk about that right now. Let's talk Hunger Games!"

"What spirit!" Caesar laughed, slapping him on the back, "All right! How about we talk about that phenomenal score you got?"

The crowd cheered and Piston couldn't help but sit a little bit taller in his seat. "Aw, it was nothing…" He said, trying to look modest. On the inside, he was glowing with pride.

"Nothing? You're ranking right up there with the Careers! In fact, you've been given the best odds of any untrained tribute. How do you feel about _that_?"

"Well, I'm feeling pretty good!" Piston laughed, pumping his fist.

But there was one person out in the audience who didn't feel good about it.

Viola continued to shoot glances down the row to where the Careers were sitting. The District 1 girl looked rather annoyed. The boy from 2 was leaning over to say something to the boy from 1, while his district partner snapped at him to get off of her. A shudder passed up Viola's spine. The Careers always seemed so angry—she wouldn't have been surprised if a fight broke out between them right now.

And so Piston's interview continued. Caesar showered him in praise, but he was oblivious to the complications that might arise from this.

At the end, he told everyone, "I want to win because I feel I deserve it and I have a pretty good shot. Wish me luck!"

Everyone screamed adoration and clapped their hands vigorously. Piston exited to the right and joined the tributes in the front row.

Caesar stood up, straightening his tie and dramatically wiping his forehead. "Whew! Thanks for tuning in, folks! We're going to be taking a short break now. Stay tuned!"


	19. Interviews Part 2

**Hey ya'll! Claire's creator drew some awesome fanart of our lady tributes! Check it out:**

: / / u . cubeupload humanoftheyear/image . jpg

: / / u . cubeupload humanoftheyear/2b4image . jpg

**Isn't it cool? Make sure you add http at the beginning, a .com after cubeupload, and take out the spaces. And a slash after the .com, thank you Wisteria. XP Anyways, favorite character poll is now up! Please go vote for your top three favorites after reading this chapter. :) **

**...Hard to believe I was writing the 42****nd**** a year ago. Time flies. It's also hard to believe that this story has surpassed the 42nd in word count.  
**

"And we're back! Up next we have the lovely Athena Srajord!"

Athena walked out with a smile, waving shyly at the audience. She was wearing a long leafy green dress with earth-brown tones near the bottom. A thick layer of makeup and a neatly styled hairdo made her appear classier than ever before. Her birthmark, however, had been covered up.

The Capitol applauded respectfully, refreshed from the intermission and excited to meet the rest of the tributes.

"So how are you feeling?" Caesar asked as each of them took a seat.

"Okay, I guess." Athena replied, shifting uncomfortably, "A little bit nervous about other people watching me."

"Oh my, I'm sorry to hear that," Caesar said, sounding slightly disappointed, "But don't you worry. It's only a three minute interview."

Athena gave a small, humorless smile. "Riiight. Not like anyone will be watching me in the arena, eh?"

"Trust me, it's like they're not even there!" Caesar told her.

"I'll take your word for it."

"So…is there anything you can tell me about your strategies? What truly makes you a competitor in these Games?" Caesar said, looking very interested to know.

"Well, Caesar, I'm confident in my speed." Athena replied, her voice becoming smoother as she spoke more and more, "I spent a lot of time on the obstacle course in training. As for my strategy, I won't be jumping into any battles. I plan on hanging back and surviving."

There were a few grunts of approval from the audience. Xander and Ian exchanged a glance, rolling their eyes. "That's for us to decide, isn't it?" Sagitta murmured darkly, but it went unheard.

As Athena left the stage, she was seized with dread. It was Barrett's turn now. She had feared this moment the entire week. She didn't know why—maybe she just didn't like being known as the district partner of the crazy kid.

Backstage, Barrett was a nervous wreck. The suit he was wearing felt unbearably warm. Alpha and Omega tried to whisper encouragement while Barrett constantly fiddled with the tie, the buttons, and collar of his outfit.

When Caesar called his name, he stepped out. He felt something land on his foot and looked down to see his tie had come off. He just stood there, staring at it, wondering whether he should pick it up or not. Caesar had to walk right up to him and guide him to his seat, introducing him to the crowd with a flourish.

"What's my angle again?" Barrett muttered.

"What was that? Your angle?" Caesar said, looking a little bit surprised, "I'm not sure…hey! Aren't I supposed to be the one asking the questions?"

The audience laughed, drowning out Barrett's frustrated response of, "I wasn't asking _you_."

"So, Barrett…you're a very special boy, aren't you? I think you've garnered quite a few fans in the Capitol." Caesar grinned.

For a few long seconds, Barrett just stared at Caesar his eyes hard and furious. Then he snapped, "Snow doesn't want me to win because I hate flowers!"

Many confused glances were exchanged.

"Flowers…?" Caesar said, looking a bit shaken. He usually kept his composure in these events, but Barrett was quickly starting to act up. He was dangerous…and everyone seemed to be coming to this realization. Except for the Head Gamemaker, safe in her balcony, who laughed away at the drama unfolding before her eyes.

"You!" Barrett snapped, leaping to his feet and glaring at the first row of tributes.

"…Me?" Viola whispered in horror, her veins filling with ice as Barrett's gaze bore into her.

"Yes! Why do you like flowers? WHY?! Don't you know the truth?! THEY'RE CRUEL PEOPLE!"

"Barrett, please. Calm yourself. It's only an interview." Caesar said in a soothing voice, but Barrett rounded on him without warning.

"They sent you, didn't they? The Red Men. I know they sent you! ECHO TOLD ME SO!"

He took a threatening step towards Caesar, raising his arm. And that was it. Bodyguards came sprinting out and grabbed Barrett before he could lay a finger on Caesar. They restrained his arms and began dragging him off the stage. Barrett's fit doubled in intensity. He threw his head back and howled, "I DON'T WANT TO DIE I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" over and over again. Tears broke free from his eyes and left dark tracks through his makeup.

His cries faded as they shipped him off to some unknown destination. The tributes shuddered in their seats, unable to tear their gaze away. The chair beside Athena was ominously empty…and it would remain that way for the rest of the night.

As the last of Barrett's screams dwindled, the Capitolites began to laugh. It was all just some hilarious show to them; some sort of twisted entertainment. The laughter was contagious and soon, most everyone had lost it.

Only the tributes remained quiet. Not even the Careers cracked a smile. In fact, their eyes were wide with a certain amount of fear.

Thank goodness for Caesar Flickerman. He quickly composed himself and beamed at his adoring crowd as if nothing had happened. "So! Let's meet our next tribute, shall we? Thimble Paylor!"

Thimble hesitated to go out, feeling anxious after witnessing such a horrific scene. _C'mon, don't be a baby, _She scolded herself, _You're tough. You can handle it._

Standing up straight, she walked onto the stage in an assured manner.

Caesar clasped his hands in adoration, gasping, "Don't you look nice!" while the audience cooed over how sweet she looked. Thimble wanted to spit on them.

Her little dress was as feminine as they came. It was the sweetest shade of daffodil yellow; it had a sweetheart strapless neckline covered in intricate beading and sequins along a petal stitching. Around the waist were three matching daises that fell short of a puffy tutu-like skirt. Her makeup was a soft pink and her short hair was pulled to the side with a flowery bow.

It was ridiculously gooey and adorable. It wasn't her.

Thimble's mentor had told her to act as if she were a delicate flower, terrified of the Games, but she knew that wouldn't be garnering any support. No one likes a pity case. The Capitolites watched the Hunger Games for the fighters, not the wimps.

"What a pretty dress," Caesar said, smiling as Thimble sat down next to him, crossing her arms. "It suits you."

Thimble let out a snort. "What makes you say that?"

"Well…I suppose it suits your image."

"Image?" Thimble repeated in disbelief, "Well, whatever image you're thinking of is dead wrong. I may have looked fragile at the Reaping, but that's just because I was caught off guard! And my chariot costume was so tight I could barely breathe. I couldn't focus. Well, _this _is me…minus the frilly outfit."

Thimble's words were met with a good response. Even she was surprised at her resolve. Caesar reached over and gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet the real you." He said sincerely, "I'm sorry I judged you so early on because you're small."

"_I'm _small? Have you seen some of those upper district boys? They're downright puny!"

Backstage, both Al and Seyuto took a blow to their confidence.

"Honestly, I've taken down my brothers and they have way more meat on them than those guys." Thimble finished, smirking slightly.

"I like your confidence." Caesar told her, taking her hand in his, "Thimblelina, you're something special."

"Yeah, that's what you said to the _last _one." Thimble said before she could stop herself.

It sent the audience into hysterics. Apparently, Barrett's fits amused them to no end. Thimble felt a little disgusted by it. But she still managed to thank Caesar without saying something derogatory. Then she left the stage to Flick.

He wore a plain black suit with a cherry red bowtie. His stylist had barely touched upon his hair or makeup, preferring to go with his usual spiky style to add more character to his appearance. On his hands were spotless white gloves. At least, they were spotless when he first put them on. Waiting backstage had been a terribly boring experience, so of course, he spent it tapping away all sorts of new rhythms that came to mind. Sadly, the gloves were now wrinkled.

In his chair, he continued to fidget while Caesar asked him a few questions.

"So," Caesar said, "You and your partner make quite the pair. You've become very popular over night!"

Flick hesitated a moment, wondering how to respond to that. He supposed that meant everyone was coupling them up, so he instantly blurted, "I don't like her."

Thimble narrowed her eyes from her seat in the audience. It took all of her willpower not to run up there and start threatening to punch Flick if he said another word.

"I mean…I don't really feel that way about girls…or anyone." Flick finished.

"It's fine. You're young." Caesar laughed, "I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

For some reason, the audience chuckled a bit. Flick's brown eyes were as wide as dinner plates as he wondered what was so funny. Paired with the fact that his hair was sticking up in every direction, he looked a bit comical. This only served to make everyone laugh even more.

Flick took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. But he couldn't keep his face from turning bright red.

Caesar picked up on this and decided to change the subject. "Flick, I've been meaning to ask you about the Reaping. That girl that attacked the Peacekeepers…was that your sister?"

One of the screens began to play out the scene. Flick was entranced by it, watching his sister as if she were from some lost, forgotten world. Caesar had to give him a nudge to snap him out of it. "Oh!" He said quickly, cheek giving a nervous twitch, "That's my sister."

"Miss…?"

"Astron."

"Well, Astron seems like a nice girl." Caesar said, smiling as she socked a Peacekeeper in the jaw on the TV.

"She believes in me more than anyone." Flick said in a hushed whisper, "Even more than my friends do."

The audience sighed. Flick blushed when he realized he had said it out loud.

"C-Can I go now?"

Everyone started laughing again, at this. He just wanted to sink into the chair and disappear. Luckily, his three minutes were up.

Backstage, Aluma continued to scratch at the eye patch her stylist had placed over her right eye. She didn't like it one bit. She was an honest person, sometimes to the point of being blunt, and pretending this problem didn't exist by hiding it wasn't going to solve anything.

_If they hated it so much, why couldn't they heal it? _Aluma thought, _…Oh, right. Because I'll be dead in a week._

Her name rang through the air as Caesar called for her to join him on stage. She walked out with a smile, wearing a simple black dress. It was a little bit short for her tastes, but complaining about it had gotten her nowhere.

"So Aluma," Caesar began.

She expected his first comment to be on her new eye patch, but it wasn't.

"Have you been enjoying your stay here?"

Hmm. Well, at least she could answer this one truthfully without ticking anyone off. "Yes, actually," She grinned, "The food is _amazing. _And the training center was actually a lot of fun too. I liked having the free range to do whatever I want!"

She could hear sounds of approval coming from the crowd of Capitolites. They just loved to hear praise. Tapping her foot nervously, Aluma looked expectantly at Caesar for the next question. He decided to delve into the Games, asking her about her strategies and possible alliances.

"No alliances…not yet." Aluma confessed, avoiding everyone's gaze, "There's no one I've found to be really trustworthy."

"What about your district partner?"

"Definitely not him."

The audience laughed and Aluma couldn't help but feel pleased. She could almost imagine Rowan scowling at her, that permanent glare etched across his face. _I guess he's not so bad. _Aluma thought, feeling amused.

Caesar asked her another question about what she'd expect to find in the Games, but she couldn't conjure up any ideas. The Head Gamemaker was too unpredictable. So Caesar changed the topic at the last minute.

"We don't have to talk about this if you don't want," The host said carefully, "But I think everyone's rather curious as to how you came by your eye infection."

Aluma felt a flash of annoyance, but quickly shook it off. "I guess I'm just lucky." She stated in a sarcastic voice. Nervous laughter greeted her response. "But I don't care," She went on, "As long as I have one eye, I can still see. And I can still kill."

Her last words got the crowd going a bit more and her interview ended on a good note. Rowan came out next in a black suit with red stripes and black shoes. His makeup had been applied to make his cheekbones stand out and his dark brown hair had been slicked back.

His eyes were narrowed in an unfriendly expression, as usual. He didn't bother smiling even for his fans. He was in a bad mood after waiting so long for his turn.

"It's nice to meet you, Rowan." Caesar said, motioning for him to sit down.

"Yeah…" He replied, with a slight frown. "More like it was nice knowing you."

"Now, now, pessimism won't get you anywhere." Caesar chided.

"I'm not being a pessimist. I'm being a realist." Rowan said flatly, "There are twenty-four tributes…the odds aren't very good. But I will say that my odds are better than others."

The audience was quiet, listening intently. Caesar smiled, almost knowingly. "And why's that?"

Rowan paused for a moment, unwilling to let them know about his skill with kamas. He didn't want to reveal any hidden talents, but he still wanted to make an impression on the Capitol. So after racking his brain for a moment, he told everyone, "Because I promised my best friend I would come back and I intend to keep that promise."

"Your best friend…did he come say goodbye to you?"

"Not only that. He tried to volunteer for me…but I wouldn't let him." Rowan said quietly, "If I die, then where will that leave him? He'll live the rest of his life regretting that he couldn't convince me to let him enter the Games…" He trailed off, feeling a bit embarrassed that he had spilled so much to total strangers.

"I see." Caesar nodded. "That seems like it will be a heavy weight resting on your shoulders."

"Not to mention I still have a family waiting for me to return." Rowan added. "I'll do anything to win."

_Anything._

As he left the stage, Rowan felt that his interview had gone over well. Hopefully, the Capitol would sense what he was capable of. And if they couldn't, he would show them just how capable he was in the arena.

Claire came out next in a short-sleeved, modest blue dress that reached below her knees. She had given her stylist heck when she saw the sleazy number prepared for her. But there was no way she would be wearing that indecent garbage on live television. Her stylist had caved quiet easily in the end. Claire had put up a convincing argument.

Trying to appear composed and intelligent, Claire sat down next to Caesar, greeting him politely. Because no matter how much she despised the Capitol and their unethical ways, she would do whatever it took to impress them. Her life depended on it.

"So, Claire! How have these past few days been going for you? Did you enjoy training?" Caesar asked.

Claire immediately felt defensive. "This isn't about my training score is it?" She said in a fast voice, "Because I did great, honestly, but those Gamemakers have such high expectations! I mean, we're people not robots! I don't think they were even watching me. They probably just made a sorry guess!"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down…!" Caesar said, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.

Claire took a few deep breaths, trying to control herself. "I was tired, okay?" She tried to say in a calm voice, "I…I wanted to get a low score too, so that everyone would underestimate me." _Shoot! If that were the case, why would you say that out loud?!_

"…Is that so?" Caesar said, looking at her questionably, probably wondering which excuse to believe.

"I know what I'm doing!" Claire said harshly.

"I'm sure you do." Caesar said, latching onto the statement and asking her about her strategies for in the arena.

"You'll have to wait and see, but just know that I have everything under control." Claire lied. She wasn't even sure the audience was buying it at this point.

But then all of the sudden, Caesar decided to bring up the Careers, pointing out that they were an intimidating bunch. They would surely be her biggest competition in the arena, so she'd have to keep an eye on them.

Claire gave a scornful laugh. _Those disgusting creeps aren't even human! _She wanted to say, but one look at them shut her up.

Each one of them glared at her, especially Sagitta, who had disliked Claire from the beginning. It was as if they were daring her to say something. Perhaps Sagitta had spread the news of her prejudice.

Claire tried to meet their gazes bravely. She wanted them to know she wasn't scared, even though she was screaming on the inside.

The Capitol applauded her small display of courage at the end. She took her seat near the farthest end of the row, a safe distance from the Careers. A small thrill of fear shot through her and she felt as if she was being watched. She turned her head slowly to the left and peered down the row.

A few Careers were leaning forward in their seats, looking at her. A smug grin curled across the District 1 boy's face and he gave her a small wave. She looked away quickly, heart pounding in her chest.

She tried to focus on Buck's interview to forget about it.

Buck came striding out in a cream-colored button up and a light brown sports coat made of short fur. He also had on brown pants and a small headpiece that resembled antlers. He looked a little bit grumpy, but brightened up as soon as he was face to face with Caesar.

"What a fitting outfit," Caesar said, looking at the tribute's strange headpiece, "Buck McBride, everyone!"

"Howdy, Caesar. Howdy, Panem." Buck greeted as he took a seat, quite ready to charm the Capitol into liking him.

They were quite happy to respond, even if some of their energy was starting to fade and their hands were sore from clapping. Buck was handsome in a rugged way and tributes that were easy on the eyes always seemed to be favored.

"Howdy! Looks like we got a bona fide District 10 boy on ours hands." Caesar said, trying to mimic Buck's accent. Quite poorly. It warranted quite a few laughs.

"Straight outta the Tenderloin." Buck said proudly, not that it was anything to be extremely proud of.

"Tenderloin?" Caesar repeated, looking mystified.

"Where I come from." Buck said evasively. He didn't want to give the Capitol the satisfaction of knowing his real life. They didn't need to know about the range of…activities…he participated in on a daily basis.

Caesar went on to ask him about his home life, but Buck dodged answering them just like before. The host seemed a bit disappointed he couldn't dig up any personal information for their viewers, but he easily changed the subject to the Games.

"District 10 hasn't had a winner in years," Buck said, sighing, "But I plan to change that." He offered up a smile, causing his dimples to appear.

"Well, you certainly seem like a fighter," Caesar said, beaming, "Best of luck, Buck!"

"Much obliged." Buck replied, shaking the host's hand.

Backstage, Quinoa's body was shaking uncontrollably. _I can't do this. _She thought. _I can't go out there and speak my mind. _

But then she thought of her brothers and drew strength from their images. Barley, a natural leader who could stir anyone into following him. Milo, incredibly outspoken and fearless when it came to expressing his opinions. And Rhye, who had a quiet strength to him. Just like her. They had protected her their entire lives, and now she would repay them.

"Quinoa Rheape!" Caesar called.

She stepped out in her long multi-colored ball gown. The top of the bodice was heavily beaded with rhinestones that dispersed into the bottom half of her dress. Her hair was done up with a large puff that had curled tendrils cascading down her back. A heavy, bejeweled watch was wrapped around her wrist, weighing it down.

Caesar took her hand and lifted it slightly, observing the watch. By the way he held it, Quinoa could tell he was trying to draw the audience's attention to it.

"I see you have a lovely watch there, Miss Rheape," He said with a toothy grin, "Maybe if you had one back at home, you wouldn't have been so late to your Reaping, hmm?" He gave her a friendly wink.

Quinoa removed her hand from his. "That…that's not funny…!" She choked out. She had a lump in her throat and she was having trouble getting past it. She swallowed a few times, clearing it away.

"Forgive me," Caesar said, as the two of them sat down.

"I didn't mean to be late to the Reaping…" Quinoa muttered.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm sure you didn't."

For some reason, the audience was chuckling. Quinoa tried to block them out and focus on Caesar. This conversation was between her and him…no one else. They were just a fuzzy blur to her anyways.

"I…I want to talk about the Games." Quinoa said, her soft voice being picked up by her microphone and broadcast all over Panem.

"Excellent!" Caesar said briskly, "And what is it you'd like to talk about in particular."

Turning slowly in her seat to face the audience, Quinoa bravely lifted her chin and said in a wavering voice, "I'm not going to do it."

Caesar's eyebrows rose. "…What was that? I'm afraid you don't have a choice in the matter…"

"I mean…I'm not going to play the Games and I'm not going to kill…anyone." Quinoa said, starting to shrink a bit. Her voice was sounding weaker and weaker in her ears. "It's wrong. All of this is wrong. And I hate it."

Capitolites were muttering amongst themselves now. But she continued:

"The districts already outnumber you. Someday…!"

"All right, I think that's quite enough!" Caesar said in a chipper voice, sounding as if nothing was wrong, "Is there anything you can tell me about your family? How about your friends?"

Quinoa opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Only a dry whistling that sounded somewhere in her throat. Blush was creeping into her cheeks as well. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus on the tributes sitting in the front row. She couldn't make out any features on their faces, but they seemed to be looking at one another and at her.

"Just…think about what I said, please." She said in a quiet voice, addressing them. _Don't play these Games. We can beat them if we all work together…and refuse to kill._

Someone started clapping. Quinoa tried hard to make out who it was…by the short height, it appeared to be the girl from District 10. Warmth flooded all the way to her fingertips at this tiny show of support.

No one else picked up the applause. The Capitolites clapped awkwardly at the end of the interview, but they were still muttering to themselves. Quinoa felt like everyone was staring at her. For once, she was glad she was near-sighted.

As soon as she sat down in her seat, Claire reached over Buck and rested a hand on Quinoa's shoulder. "Well said." She said, smiling, "You and I should stick together."

A smile lit up Quinoa's features. "R-Really?"

Claire nodded.

Their conversation was cut off when Al came strutting out in a funky green and black pinstripe suit, complete with a green bowtie and a matching triangular hat with a green feather. He also sported a pair of cool-looking sunglasses. The first thing Caesar did was compliment him on his attire.

"Thanks." Al grinned, shooting two fingers at the audience. He practically leaped backwards into his chair and then sat there with his legs crossed in front of him.

"You know…I think Panem has seen you before, haven't we? Would you mind taking your sunglasses off so we can see your face?" Caesar obviously had something in mind.

Al's hand fluttered up to his sunglasses, but he didn't remove them. "Ehh…_nah_. Start the interview." He decided, dropping his hand and resting it on the arm of the chair.

"Come on. I'm sure everyone would like to see your face." Caesar said, turning to look at the Capitolites, "Am I right, folks?"

"Take it off! Take it off!" They chanted approvingly.

Frowning, Al merely raised the sunglasses slightly so they were resting on his forehead. Caesar clapped his hands and proclaimed, "I knew it! Recognize this clip, anyone…?"

A video began playing on one of the large TV screens placed near the stage. It was of Al; he was looking a little bit younger and he wore the same green bowtie he had worn on the day of the Reaping.

"Man, me and that guy go way back! Kellen's like a brother to me. So I know what I'm sayin' when I say I'm the next best guy for an interview!"

The clip ended and Al gave a loud laugh. "Yeah, I called him Kellen instead of Kalin. I'm such a kidder!"

"Didn't you also tell the press your name was Dean for some reason?"

"Ahaha, yeah! I'm also a compulsive liar." Al lied.

Caesar stared at him for a few seconds with a faint grin, as if he were trying to determine whether he was lying or not. Deciding not to pursue the matter any further, he said, "It's nice to see that you're such good friends with one of our favorite victors, Kalin."

"Yeah, I am," Al grinned, "In fact, we're already in agreement that if I win, we're gonna host Kal n' Al's Block Party in the Victor's Village of District 11. Come on out for a real good time!"

Everyone started cheering for some strange reason, as if Al had already succeeded in securing a home in the Victor's Village. But for now, the invitation was nonexistent. Caesar pointed this out, but Al waved it off.

"All right. Is there anything you'd like to say to a friend or family member before we part ways?" Caesar questioned, motioning to a camera.

Al's expression became serious. He turned and stared into a camera blankly for a few seconds. Then he raised his hands to his mouth and shouted, "Beetle, put your shirt on!"

The crowd dissolved into a fit of laughter, despite not knowing anything about the inside joke. Al went to his seat with a grin. All of Quinoa's efforts had quickly been forgotten by the Capitolites after a little bit of humor.

"Well, it seems like we've arrived at our final district for the night!" Caesar said, throwing out his arms, "Let's bring out our final lovely lady—Rina Hale!"

Rina appeared with a brilliant smile lighting up her features. She wore a short, strapless black dress that faded to blood red at the bottom. Her hair was done in a waterfall braid that fell down her back. She stumbled a little bit in her extremely high heels, but Caesar was there to grab her hand and support her, lifting her arm in the air and announcing her name once more.

"Looks like someone hasn't quite broken into their high heels yet…" Caesar mused, guiding Rina to her seat.

She wobbled a bit, and then sat down graciously. "Yeah, I'm more of a sneakers girl. They're easier to move in. Easier to dance in, too."

"You dance?" Caesar said, smiling widely, "That's amazing! Would you mind showing us…?"

Rina shook her head. "Oh, no! I'm sorry, I breakdance. And I'm not really wearing the most appropriate attire at the moment." She signaled to her dress and everyone chuckled.

"Right," Caesar agreed, "Don't want your stylist chewing me out later on. Let's talk Hunger Games! Why do you think you deserve to win?"

"Well, Caesar…" Rina said, shooting him an endearing look, "I think my district is one of the most important, yet overlooked districts in all of Panem. We only have _one _victor too. That needs to be fixed."

"Yes, indeed it does." Caesar sighed, "A shame when a mentor has to divide their time between two tributes instead of having an individual assignment…"

He asked her a few more questions about how she planned to win the Games. She tried to come up with answers that would appeal to the audience, and was doing a fine job of it. At the end, Caesar asked her for a final statement.

Rina turned serious. "Well…no one truly survives these Games, but that doesn't mean I won't try."

Caesar tilted his head slightly. "And what do you mean by that?"

"Well, it can be a scarring experience, both physically and mentally." Rina answered, "But I'm ready to deal with anything that comes my way."

The Capitolites burst into a round of applause. Rina got up and waved as she walked off the stage, silently praying that she wouldn't trip down the steps in her heels. Luckily for her, she made it to her seat in one piece.

"Now it's time for our final interview of the night." Caesar said, looking slightly relieved. "Please welcome Seyuto Yosuke Laresses!"

Despite being the last one of the day, Seyuto's dramatic entrance got everyone going. He leaped out wearing a black leather jacket that was actually smoking. The scent of burning coal filled the room. Immediately, Seyuto dissolved into a complex dance number, twirling and shuffling up and down the stage.

When he had finished, he moonwalked to his seat and shook Caesar's hand. Caesar was cracking up, quite enjoying the show Seyuto had displayed. The Capitolites were screaming adoration as well.

"Boooo!" Someone in the front of the audience shouted, "Wangster!"

"Al, please stop." Quinoa whispered, tugging on his sleeve, "Isn't he in your alliance?"

"Let him have his fun." Rina said, grinning, very much enjoying the show.

But if Seyuto heard Al's jibe, he didn't react. Caesar must have heard it though, because he started by saying, "It seems that some of the tributes don't really like you."

"What makes you think that?" Seyuto said, arching an eyebrow.

"For one, that black eye speaks a thousand words." Caesar motioned to Seyuto's injury he had gotten in training, courtesy of Piston.

"My stylist said I should flaunt it, not cover it." Seyuto muttered, embarrassed.

"I think it's very becoming. But how do you feel about this…unpopularity you've acquired among your fellow competitors?"

The Capitolites began to cheer at this, wanting to show their support for the short District 12 tribute. Seyuto closed his eyes and held up both hands, signaling them to quiet down. But a small smirk on his lips betrayed that he was secretly enjoying this.

"Let's get real for a moment." Seyuto said in all seriousness, "I want everyone up in here to know that…as long as you know who you are, it truly doesn't matter what people think of you."

There was an audible sigh from the Capitolites. A few women were holding their hearts, looking tearful at Seyuto's wonderful words of wisdom. A hushed silence fell over the crowd…

Seyuto shrugged. "Eh. Either way." Then he looked directly at the row of tributes and flipped them off.

The Capitolites all started talking amongst themselves, some cheering, some laughing about what had just occurred. When Seyuto spoke again, they settled down.

"I've got my gang back home anyways," He bragged, "They'll support me, maybe even try to sponsor me if it's not somethin' too expensive. I'm sure they'll find a way."

The buzzer rang and Seyuto threw up both of his arms, shouting, "YOLO!"

Smiling, Caesar took center stage. "Thank you all so much for joining us here tonight! A reminder that there will be no ball this year; the tributes will be spending the night in their quarters instead. Make sure you wake up early tomorrow so you don't miss the start of the 44th annual Hunger Gaaames!"

The crowd went absolutely wild. Caesar parted with a bow as the curtains closed on him.

"Good night, folks!"


	20. Nevermore

**Now it's time for the extra chapter that replaced that ball! Remember to review!**

Kalin couldn't believe it had already been a year.

Gazing back into the past felt unreal, like peering into a different world. Exactly a year ago, this garden had been filled with the tributes of the 43rd Hunger Games. Every bit of it seemed to contain some sort of hidden memory. Amara sitting by the wine fountain…Jarek with a mask of hardened chocolate on his face…Kalin shook his head to clear it and told himself to focus on the present.

Tomorrow was the Hunger Games. Al, his tribute, was counting on him. Quinoa too, even though she had been working closer with the other D11 victor. Even so, he felt sick at the thought of their lives depending on him.

Right now, they were probably back on their floor, trying to sleep. Meanwhile, he had been required to attend this terrible party. After the 43rd tributes had ruined tradition with their drunken riot, the ball had been cancelled. Now it was a fancy cocktail party for privileged guests, including past victors such as himself. There wasn't a single camera to intrude on this celebration. Distant cheering could be heard as Capitolites took their parties to the streets.

But while older victors reminisced with one another, Kalin hovered awkwardly at the refreshments table. Being the newest addition to the crew, he hadn't forged any bonds, except perhaps with his mentor. But she was socializing with an older woman from District 12 and he didn't want to disturb her. He scanned the crowd anxiously, wondering what to do with himself.

His eyes fell upon a pretty, familiar face. It was Channa, the girl that had won the Hunger Games before his own. Kalin had seen her many times before, and even spoken to her once or twice. She always carried herself with confidence, and there was no denying her beauty. Even the Games couldn't change that—not even when she had lost her eye. But it was clear to see the Capitol had been preserving her beauty and even tweaking it to their liking. His cheeks reddened slightly, feeling shameful for noticing.

But at this moment, Channa displayed none of this confidence. An older gentleman—possibly one of the Gamemakers, or another important figure—had her backed against one of the decorative pillars. He was right in her face, his mouth curled into a gluttonous sneer. Instead of facing him courageously, Channa was cringing against the pillar. Her lip was curled in revulsion, but when she tried to pull away, the man grabbed her arm and held her there.

Kalin felt a sharp twinge of disgust. He knew what was happening. Without wasting a second, he slammed down his drink and hastily made his way towards the pair. As he approached, he could hear a snatch of the conversation.

"…have to do me the honor of coming back to spend the night again." The man groped for her chin, snatching it between green-tinged fingers and forcing her to look upwards, into his eyes. Her expression was hard, and she tried to shake him off, but found herself trapped. "If not, I'm sure President Snow would…"

"Excuse me." Kalin coughed quite loudly, coming to stand behind the older man.

The man gave a jerk of surprise and whipped around. Kalin gritted his teeth, trying not to gag at the stench of alcohol that emanated from this disgusting excuse of a human being. His skin was a sickly shade of green, but that was because green was still 'in' from last year, not because of his current state.

"If it isn't Mr. Barry…" The man wheezed, taking a shaky step towards the 18-year old boy, who was much larger than he, "How kind of you to grace me with your—"

"Save it." Kalin snapped. He held out his hand to Channa, motioning her to take it. She blatantly ignored him, shoving past the two of them and clicking away in her high heels.

"She's feisty, that one." The man giggled perversely, "You know, Mr. Barry, if you're ever looking for a good time, all you have to do is..."

Clenching his fists, Kalin forced himself to calmly walk away from the drunken partygoer. He easily caught up to Channa, who was staring morosely into the wine fountain. As he stepped up next to her, she looked up and glared at him, her eyes cold and unfriendly.

"What do _you _want?" She hissed.

"Nothing." Kalin said, green eyes widening innocently.

"I have a boyfriend, you know." She said coolly, crossing her arms over her chest, as if to shield her cleavage from him. Her dress certainly wasn't the most…modest. He wondered if she had picked it out or still had a prep team telling her what to wear.

"I know." Kalin replied quietly, suddenly feeling very sorry for Channa. Yes, she had a boyfriend, but she could never truly be with him while she was selling herself within the confines of the Capitol. That man that had been harassing her…he was the proof of it.

For a while, they just stood there in silence, watching their rippling reflections in the dark red depths of the fountain. Channa seemed to guess what Kalin was thinking and said softly, "…Do you…does Snow make you do it, too?"

She didn't have to elaborate.

"No," Kalin's voice was barely a whisper, "He brought it up, but I refused…I have no family he can threaten me with anyways."

It was common knowledge among victors that this was how things went. If you were desirable, anyone with the money could buy your company for the night. You became their property, against your will. And you were forbidden to speak of it. For more than a year, Channa had suffered through this in silence.

"You're braver than I am, Channa." Kalin sighed wistfully.

To his surprise, a sly smirk spread across her face. "You're right. I am." She said, with a flash of her old ego. She flipped her hair and laughed, but it still sounded forced to him.

Kalin tried to smile too, but his features saddened. _I'm a coward. _He thought, thinking of his many parties, the ones that helped him escape his regrets. While Channa protected her family by facing her problems head on, he continued to run away from his. But he wasn't allowed to do that anymore. Now, he had to sit down and watch his tributes compete whether he liked it or not. Their very lives were depending on him to score sponsors for them. Kalin felt a certain amount of fear bubbling up inside him. He didn't want that. He didn't want to go through it all over again, helplessly watching innocent kids die.

Before he could be consumed by grief, Channa pointed a finger and exclaimed, "Hey, isn't that the Head Gamemaker?"

Kalin blinked away his concerns and turned to see where she was pointing. Across the garden was a young woman with wavy, light brown hair and a sparkly pink dress that twinkled obnoxiously every time she moved. She was smiling and laughing as she chatted with a group of Gamemakers. Kalin felt his throat close up with dislike. How could she be so carefree, when she had killed? When she would be killing tomorrow? After all, she was the one who played a major part in creating the arena. She made the decision to set mutts on defenseless tributes. She was no better than the rest of them.

But then here she came, wobbling over to them in a pair of high heels. As she drew closer, he realized that each of her eyes was a different color. One was the iciest shade of blue while the other was ruby red. It was unnerving.

Kalin tried to swallow his distaste and smile.

The Head Gamemaker beamed at them, clasping her hands. "Kalin, Channa! My two favorite victors!"

Channa seemed relaxed enough, taking the Gamemaker's hand and shaking it. Kalin did the same and came away with a handful of glitter. He tried to wipe it off on his pants, but it just made the dark material sparkle. He groaned inwardly.

"How have you been?" Channa said politely.

"I'm fantastic. So excited for tomorrow!" The Gamemaker gave a wriggle of glee, "I think you'll enjoy these Games. There's a bit of a throwback to both of yours in there, I'm sure you'll find it quite nostalgic!"

Kalin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What do you mean?" He asked hastily.

The Gamemaker waggled a finger that shone with bright pink nail polish. "I'm not giving anything away!" She chided, "You'll just have to wait and see like everyone else."

"Ugh! I hate suspense." Channa rolled her eyes.

"Sorry." The Gamemaker said, not looking sorry at all, "But you'll thank me for it later! It's much more fun to be surprised, after all…"

"Fine, fine. Anyways, there was something I wanted to ask you…" Channa said, looking endearing, "What do you think of my two tributes this year?"

The Head Gamemaker's smile widened. "Are you kidding? I _always _love District 1! They're so classy. And I have a feeling seeing Ian and Jade work together in the arena will be a real treat!"

Kalin allowed a scowl to settle across his face. He didn't like hearing her voice her blatant favoritism for one district over another. "What about _my_ tributes?" He asked, a little bit too harshly.

The Head Gamemaker turned to look at Kalin as if she had already forgotten he was there. Her brow crinkled slightly and he noticed a few scars pop out on her forehead, through a layer of makeup. One scar cut down diagonally through her eyebrow, towards her bright red eye. It made her look like some kind of villain. Perhaps being the Head Gamemaker wasn't all puppies and rainbows, as Kalin had previously thought…

"Well…" She said carefully, "You might want to tell them to be careful. They've acted out quite a bit. I mean, I try not to pick favorites or let poor attitudes influence me, but sometimes I get carried away. Especially when dealing with _mongrels_," She let out a light, mischievous laugh. "But I like you, Kalin. Tell Al and Quinoa to be careful."

A group of guffawing men suddenly called out to the Gamemaker, diverting her attention.

"Oh, I have to go! But before I do…" She slid in between the two victors and put her arms around them, holding them close. "I just want to thank you guys for being here. This is my third year as Head Gamemaker and…well, I couldn't have asked for two greater victors than yourselves. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Channa said lightly, a fake smile plastered across her face.

Kalin didn't say anything. He wanted to slap the Gamemaker's hand away. Fury was causing the edges of his vision to turn dark. All of his guilt had condensed down into a single point of hatred that was being concentrated at this woman, who appeared to be not much older than himself thanks to the magic of the Capitol.

Before he could act on impulse, the woman was already sashaying away to socialize with her friends, yelling, "All right! Who's dancing?" Kalin took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"She seems nice." Channa noted, attempting to brush glitter off her dress, "I haven't talked to her before now."

"_Nice_?" Kalin repeated, in a sharper tone than he had intended. "Have you forgotten what she's done to us?"

Channa frowned slightly. "What do you mean? We just _met _her."

Frustration caused Kalin's head to throb. He wanted to grab Channa and shake some sense into her, but he settled for clenching his fists at his sides. "She's the one who devised the arenas we suffered in!"

"I'm aware." Channa said, narrowing her eyes at Kalin's tone, "But it's her job, Kalin. Capitolites were raised differently than us-especially _you_, considering you aren't a Career-so she thinks what she's doing is fine. If you want to blame someone, just blame the whole system."

"You just don't get it! She directly caused those deaths! _She's _the one who made the arena our tributes will die in this year. _She's _the one who created all of those awful muttations. She's the one that summoned that tornado to kill Hip when he refused to fight you!"

"That's enough!" Channa snapped, "Don't talk to me about that! It's _over. _We won and it's over!" She whirled around and began to walk away.

Kalin reached for her arm to stop her. "Channa—"

"Get away from me!"

Kalin let his hand drop. He watched Channa stomp away from him without looking back. He thought he could have counted on her for some kind of support. _I guess I was wrong. _He thought, his expression darkening.

For the rest of the night, Kalin watched the Head Gamemaker, loathing her.

_This world would be better off without someone like her. _He thought, hating her just a little bit more every time she laughed or started dancing, _She killed all of those tributes. Not me. I only did what I had to do in a situation that was forced upon me. And while I killed…she was probably just laughing about it the entire time. And she'll be laughing when Al and Quinoa die in the Bloodbath tomorrow too. _

_I'll never forgive myself for it._

_And I'll never forgive the Head Gamemaker either._

**Originally, this chapter was going to end with Kalin and Channa making friends, but SCREW THAT WHO NEEDS FRIENDS WHEN THE BLOODBATH IS UP NEXT! Get psyched! Which characters do you predict will meet their doom during bath time? Leave your guesses in a review!**


	21. The Bloodbath

**We officially have more reviews than the 43rd! :D You guys are just too awesome! Seriously, thank you so much. ;_; And to top it off, we have more sweet fanart this time drawn by Ashbrie13. Aww yeah! Check it out: ashbrie13 . deviantart art/44th-HG-Charas-367894937 and ashbrie13 . deviantart art/44th-HG-Charas-2-367972527  
**

**SO! Before we enter the Games, I would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone this is the Hunger Games and your character has a high chance of dying. I know many of you are very attached to your character, but if that happens, please don't get angry and start spewing hate, especially not at the other creators. If you want to yell at someone, you yell at me because I'm the one writing the story. But then again, I don't take kindly to yelling either. Maybe we should all be nice and love each other instead. Eat some frozen yogurt or something. Mango-flavored frozen yogurt with peppermint patties. Yes. Go treat yourself to one after this.  
**

**Okay, without further ado…The (ridiculously long) Bloodbath.**

Viola woke up with a sick feeling in her stomach. For a long time, she just stayed in her warm bed and stared at the ceiling. She didn't feel like eating, even though this breakfast just might be her last meal.

Tears filled her eyes and steadily began to run down her face. She didn't dream last night. She had wanted to escape this terrible reality one last time, into a beautiful world where problems ceased to exist. Sometimes her parents greeted her there. She wanted to see their faces again more than anything. But it had been a dreamless sleep.

"Viola?" A soft knock at the door roused her. It was the voice of her escort. "…It's time."

Hastily wiping her tears, she got up and got dressed. At breakfast, Piston managed to shovel down his food, but Viola could only pick at her honey-glazed toast.

"Hey." Piston said, reaching across the table and taking her hand, "It'll be all right."

Viola could only meet his gaze and nod mutely. If she spoke, she feared her voice would break and she would dissolve into tears.

The rest of the morning was a blur. The tributes were led out one by one to board the hovercraft. Each of them cast one last glance at the Capitol before getting on the strange contraption. Inside, the air was thick with dread. Attendants went around securing tributes in their seats and injecting trackers into their arms.

Viola paused by Athena, who was sitting by the window. "Can I have the window seat?" She asked shyly.

Athena tried to smile, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Of course you can." She started getting up, but Piston stopped her.

"They tint the windows anyways, Viola," He told his district partner, "So we can't see where they're taking us."

"It's really no trouble." Athena said, making room for the youngest tribute.

Viola said a quiet thank you and took Athena's seat. Piston sat across from her and was soon joined by Rina. Athena sat next to Viola and the two of them chatted about how excited they were to fly in a hovercraft, each of them trying not to think about their destination.

Quinoa came in and took a seat next to Rina. Piston spotted her and gave her a friendly smile. "Hey, you. That was a pretty gutsy move you pulled in your interview the other day."

It took Quinoa a moment to realize that he was talking to her. "Oh! Y-You think so?" She said, feeling pleased.

Piston nodded. "You should join our alliance."

Quinoa blinked away tears that were threatening to form. She felt so grateful. First Claire and then Piston had extended an offer to her. There was more than one person that wanted her around. "Thank you." She said softly.

Flick watched her curiously from a few seats away, feeling slightly betrayed. But then he reminded himself that he didn't want Quinoa around anyways…did he?

Suddenly, the Careers came piling into the hovercraft all at once. They broke the tense atmosphere with their loud, excited voices, heading over to the far end to sit. Al and Seyuto tagged along behind them. Al tried to nab a seat next to Jade, but Ian was instantly there, so he settled for a spot next to Xander.

"You're still here?" Ian said, shooting Al a glance, "You must be insane if you think we'll let you off easy after such an embarrassing score."

Al gave a nervous chuckle in response. Then he leaned towards Xander, whispering, "Uhh…that doesn't mean they're gonna kill me as soon as they get the chance, does it?"

Xander kept a straight face when he answered, "I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

"…You got my back, right, pal?" Al asked, feeling desperate.

"Yeah, yeah. I got your back." Xander replied, but he avoided Al's eyes.

The last to board was Barrett. Vera had saved him a seat near the middle and motioned for him to sit next to her. He looked rather…unhinged. His sunken eyes were wide with panic and his dark hair stuck out in every direction. His face was stark white as well.

"Didn't you get any sleep last night?" Vera asked softly as the whir of the hovercraft started up.

There was an audible gasp from Viola as they began to climb higher and higher into the sky. Her alliance was all looking out the window with stunned expressions. The Careers, at the other end, tried to appear unimpressed. But you could see the excitement that gleamed in their eyes.

"They won't stop talking." Barrett whispered in response to Vera's inquiry, his eyes darting all around the hovercraft, "Please stop talking. Please stop, I can't think straight!" His voice rose in desperation.

A few tributes spared him a nervous glance. Thimble, who sat on the other side of him, shifted uncomfortably. Isaac sat nearby, across the aisle, waiting to see what Vera would do.

Calmly, she grasped Barrett's hand in her own. "Shh…just go to sleep."

"I can't. My friends—"

"Ask them to go to sleep too. The attendants said it would be a long ride. Everyone needs their rest."

Barrett seemed to relax slightly at Vera's words. Slowly, he closed his eyes and tried to get some sleep.

The ride passed in silence after that. The windows went dark, much to Viola's disappointment. Once in a while, a Career would make a comment, but after a while there was nothing left to say. Everyone drifted off into a quiet sleep. The only thing that could be heard was Wiley mumbling in his dreams.

"We'll be landing in five." An attendant said, all too soon.

The tributes woke up one by one, jostled awake by the people around them. Wiley continued to snore softly, leading Spark to jab her finger into his side. He immediately sprang to life.

"We're here? Did they say we're here?!" Wiley burst out, beginning to squirm in his seat.

"Woo!" Jade let out a nervous breath, "This is so exciting."

"Don't get too excited. Stay focused." Ian said, nudging her. But he looked just as anxious as she did.

The hovercraft doors slid open. They found themselves underground. It was dark and damp, and not a single speck of sky could be seen.

"Where are we?" Aluma wondered out loud, staring at the ceiling, "How did we even land here?"

"I assume we came down through some chute and it closed behind us." Rina said, passing by as her stylist led her down a corridor.

The tributes parted ways, going down different corridors to be taken to their individual rooms. Al noticed a few Peacekeepers around, standing guard. He made sure to pass extremely close to one, so close that they brushed.

Barrett was led down a specific corridor with Aluma and Claire, but they quickly split off. Shouts echoed down the hall a moment later, saying, "Hey, that little District 11 brat just pickpocketed my taser! Grab him!" but they sounded muted, and Barrett wondered if they were really apart of reality…

"Barrett." His stylist said, trying to grab his attention, "Barrett, are you with me?"

"Yes." He said, trying to focus on her voice.

"Get dressed. There's not much time left."

Barrett moved as if he were in a dream; everything seemed hazy. The outfit he had been given felt strange on his skin. He hadn't worn anything like it before in his life. It was a skintight one-piece, black in color with a decorative red stripe that went from his chest and over his shoulders, forming a V on his chest and back. The sleeves were long—on his right shoulder, the number 7 had been sewn on.

"…What is this?" He asked, feeling the clothing between his fingers in a daze.

"A wetsuit." His stylist answered, handing him a pair of shoes made of the same material, "And these are wet boots. They're waterproof."

"Water?" Barrett gasped, alarmed, "I'm allergic to water."

"No, you're not." His stylist said patiently, "Now look: there are a few little pockets hidden here. See the zippers?"

Barrett didn't answer.

His attention had turned to Echo. She was standing in a corner, looking upset. Barrett walked away from his stylist and approached her. Tears began running down her dirtied face as she looked at him, leaving thin tracks on her skin.

"Are you going away, Barry?" She asked, voice cracking.

"Yes," He told her, kneeling down and placing his hands on her shoulders, "And you can't follow me, okay?"

She sniffled. "Okay. Will I see you again?"

Barrett paused. "…You might." He said softly. With that, he stood up and turned away.

"_Thirty seconds." _A robotic voice said, filling the empty room.

His stylist was looking at him, worry creasing her brow. Barrett stepped into the capsule without any fuss.

"Don't worry," Alpha said, resting on his shoulder, "We'll take care of you."

Barrett smiled, drawing comfort from this. The capsule suddenly sealed shut, cutting him off from Echo. Her image blurred. Barrett realized that he was crying. He quickly blinked away the tears, trying to focus on his dead sister's face.

But then he was rising on his plate, heading straight up through a dark tunnel. Panic caused his chest to tighten, but he forced himself to remain still. As he breached the land, light assaulted his vision and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. When he opened them…he found himself in paradise.

The arc of tribute platforms rested on white sands, circling the golden horn that was the Cornucopia. Behind them, crystal blue waves lapped at the shore a short distance away. Across the water rose an island that stood tall against the blue, cloudless sky. A gigantic tree stood at the tip of this island, its green branches spreading out in every direction.

But there were other islands off in the distance as well. The furthest one boasted a thick jungle. Another was a looming volcano, smoking at the tip. Jagged spires that rose ominously out of the water surrounded it. A third could barely be seen over the waves, practically at sea level.

As for the island they were standing on, it was covered in palm trees and thick waves of dune grass that shivered in the breeze. To their left, at the far end of the island, was a peculiar structure.

It was a pirate ship, beached on the shore, leaning heavily to one side. Its torn sails hung limply from the mast and contained a picture of a black skull.

The arena was far unlike anything the tributes had ever experienced. Even those that had journeyed to the coast had never witnessed a place this beautiful.

But then the countdown reminded them why they were here.

_**25**_

_Oh, I can't believe this is actually happening…! _Wiley wailed inwardly. He felt like he was going to have a panic attack. His legs were shaking so bad that he had to sit down.

_**24**_

Zale was extremely relaxed. He found the other tributes' terrified faces to be quite entertaining. He almost hoped one would mess up and step off the plate early. Wouldn't that be hilarious?

_**23**_

Seyuto was jittery with excitement. He wanted to start singing or taunting someone. He caught sight of District 9 next to him and shouted, "Ey freak! Ready to find out if there's an afterlife?"

_**22**_

"No. Are _you_?" Rowan hissed, glaring fiercely at Seyuto. He turned his attention away from the rapper and focused on the Cornucopia. He needed that kama more than anything.

_**21**_

Thimble was trembling with nerves. She couldn't swim…her only option was to run into the brush and hope that it led to land. If this was an island, that meant she was trapped.

_**20**_

_Wait a second… _Isaac realized with horror that there was nothing on the outskirts. The sand around the Cornucopia was completely bare. All of the goods were inside, out of sight. _Should I run in…or run away?_

_**19**_

Buck wasn't going in there, nosiree. He focused in on the nearest island, the one that barely rose over the water. He could swim—that was where he was going.

_**18**_

_Eye on the prize, Sagitta… _The Career thought, slowly sinking into a crouching position. She was prepared to sprint in as soon as the gong rang. _Eye on the prize…_

_**17**_

Al stood frozen on his plate, beginning to have second thoughts on running in. The Careers didn't seem like they had his back. Hiding was a better option, he decided, eyeing the tall dune grass.

_**16**_

Jade was raring to start, rocking back and forth on her plate. She had to make sure she got her hands on those knives before anyone else. Then…the fun would begin.

_**15**_

_Where's Jade? _Was Ian's first thought. He saw her standing near the end of the line, quaking with anticipation. With some amusement, he noted the idiot from District 3 was sitting down on his plate next to her.

_**14**_

Vera could see Barrett looking around wildly. She silently willed him to calm down and focus. She wasn't planning to run in—she would be depending on him instead.

_**13**_

Piston was feeling pretty confident, but the missing supplies around the horn were odd. He craned his neck to peer into the Cornucopia, but he could see nothing. _Wouldn't that be great if there was nothing in there at all? _He thought sarcastically.

_**12**_

_Why is he sitting down? _Spark thought furiously, glaring in Wiley's direction. _That idiot! He'd better get his act together before the gong rings because there's no way I'm going this alone!_

_**11**_

The ninechucks were the only thing that mattered. Err, nunchucks. Xander could already feel them in his hands. His perfect weapon. He would show the Capitol—and his family—what he was made of.

_**10**_

Quinoa was absolutely terrified of the fact that she was going die. But even if this was the end for her, she was happy she could make her brothers proud. With a hopeless sob, she clutched her cornhusk doll to her chest.

_**9**_

Claire was petrified as well. Her mentor had told her to get a backpack, but she couldn't see even the smallest pouch. She needed to get a backpack—but she didn't want to have to fight anyone for it.

_**8**_

Flick felt surprisingly calm. He surveyed his surroundings, trying to figure out where to go. Leaving this place seemed like the best option…then again, he had never gone swimming before.

_**7**_

Meredith was already committing every image to memory and calculating things in her head—the distance from here to the Cornucopia, which way she'd run, who she'd take down on the way…it was all coming together.

_**6**_

Viola was terrified, until she spotted the gigantic tree on the island. It reminded her of the one on her pendant. She was sure that was where she needed to go. But one thing was for certain: she wasn't leaving here without Piston.

_**5**_

Alpha and Omega were screaming, telling Barrett someone was watching him from the island with the tree. Against his better judgment, he looked. What he saw was an old man…no. It wasn't an old man. It was a decomposing corpse, standing there staring. Straight. At. Him.

_**4**_

An ear-splitting screech nearly caused Aluma to fall off her platform. It had completely caught her off guard, coming from her blind side. She wrenched her head around to see Barrett, screaming as if he had seen a ghost. Screaming until his throat was raw and going back for more. It chilled her to the bone.

_**3**_

Athena had tried to smile up until now. But as Barrett's screaming reached her ears, her façade finally broke. Tears began running down her face uncontrollably. _I can't do this! I can't do this! _She wanted to scream along with Barrett. _I don't want to die!_

_**2**_

Rina tried to ignore the chilling cry of the schizophrenic boy. She tried to stay focused. She had to get to the throwing knives...if they were in there at all.

_**1**_

The gong rang. Tributes leapt from their platforms, sprinting in all directions. Even Wiley scrambled to his feet and took off. All were instantly on the move except for Isaac, who remained on his plate, watching the horror scene play out in front of him.

Rina, quick as lightning, ran straight for the Cornucopia. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see a number of tributes matching her speed. She tried to push herself a little harder, but already her breaths were coming in ragged gasps. She burst into the Cornucopia alongside Athena.

But the ground here was just as bare as the outside. There was not a single backpack to be seen. Only a limited number of weapons lined the inside wall of the Cornucopia. Rina just stood there, stunned.

Athena's scream brought her back to her senses. "There are only weapons!" She cried out desperately.

But Rina hadn't come all this way for nothing. She whipped around, scanning the walls for the vest of throwing knives. But there was Jade, who had materialized out of nowhere, slipping them on.

"Looking for these?" She asked innocently.

With a battle cry, Rina lunged forward to tear it away from the Career. But Jade quickly secured the vest over top her wetsuit and whipped out a knife. Rina tried to grab at her hand and take it from her, but Jade brought her leg up and kicked her right in the face. The impact sent Rina reeling. Then, with one hand, Jade grabbed a fistful of Rina's hair and wrenched her head backwards. With the other, she brought the knife forward and slit her throat.

Athena screamed, paralyzed by the sheer horror of it. Rina collapsed almost instantly, blood spewing from the neat red gash.

Meredith came in, saw the lack of weapons, and realized with a flash of frustration that Jade had already gotten hold of the knives. Without losing a step, she snatched up a spear and ran towards Athena. The poor girl tried to get away, but she was two seconds too slow. Meredith speared her like a fish and she crumpled to the ground in the same fashion as Rina.

"Meredith!" Jade shouted.

Meredith whipped around to see Piston had entered their company. The male Careers were hurriedly grabbing their weapons. Piston had already gotten ahold of a large hammer and a slingshot. His face was twisted with grief and rage at the sight of Rina's body. But to everyone's surprise, he turned tail and fled.

Jade and Meredith barreled after him, knowing that they couldn't miss this opportunity. Jade brought back her arm to throw a knife, aiming for the back of the large boy's head. But without warning, Piston turned back around, roaring like an animal. He charged towards the girls, swinging his hammer. The two Careers scattered to avoid having their skulls bashed in. One of them screamed for Sagitta.

Piston took the opportunity to run for it once more. Just the sight of him stampeding out of the Cornucopia was enough to make those running in flinch. But he paid them no mind. He had already spotted Viola waiting for him a little ways off, near the ocean. He had already lost Rina—he couldn't lose her too.

"Come on!" He yelled, shoving Viola's slingshot into one hand and catching the other in his own. He started to pull her towards the water, but she resisted.

"Where's Rina?" She shouted, looking panicked.

"She…she's dead." Piston said, his eyes welling up with sorrow, "Now come on, we have to get out of here!"

"Wait! I can't swim!" Viola said shrilly.

Piston stopped yanking Viola's arm and looked at her encouragingly. "Neither can I. But now's a great time to learn."

Viola nodded, allowing him to lead her out into the surf. Water swirled around their ankles—it was warmer than Viola expected. As they waded out, it rose to her knees and then her waist. She began to grow scared. "Piston—" She started to say.

Suddenly, Piston's hand jerked in her own. A low gagging sound erupted from his mouth. Viola turned in horror to see an arrow sticking out of the back of his neck. She stood there, frozen, as her ally pitched forward and splashed heavily into the water, disappearing from sight.

"Piston!" Viola screamed, her voice breaking.

She spotted Sagitta standing back on the shore, quickly stringing another arrow and aiming it her way. Without a moment to lose, Viola dove forward, immersing herself in the water. It filled her nose and mouth, making her lungs burn. But she just flailed her arms and kept swimming. She had to get away. She had to get to the island with the big tree.

Sagitta cursed silently as her arrow missed its mark. The little girl had disappeared among the waves and it was no use wasting arrows on her. So she turned and ran off to find another fleeing victim.

Meanwhile, Claire had entered the fray, intent on coming out of the Bloodbath with something of worth. But just as she reached the Cornucopia and was ready to sneak in, Xander came jogging out, holding his nunchucks. As soon as he spotted Claire, his face lit up with delight.

Claire turned and began to run. But she could hear Xander pounding along behind her, spraying up sand with each step. He was closing in. She opened her mouth to scream. Before she could, something smashed into the back of her head.

Then everything went dark.

Xander stepped over Claire's body, twirling his nunchucks with ease. He spotted Ian coming towards him, already having managed to get his hands on his weapon of choice.

The sound of insane shrieking suddenly reached Xander's ears. He and Ian looked towards the Cornucopia to see Barrett coming straight for them, waving a hatchet he had acquired. He looked absolutely deranged. With surprised shouts, Xander and Ian scrambled away from the insane schizophrenic. But Barrett ran right past them, trampling off into the dune grass. They watched him go.

"You can have him if you want." Ian offered, eyes wide.

"That's okay." Xander said, already running off, "He's all yours."

"But I insist!" Ian called after Xander. His words went ignored. He shrugged, going off to find a different victim.

Barrett had ceased screaming, but panic still filled him to the brim. That corpse was even more terrifying than a Career—and it was coming for him. He knew. As soon as the gong rang, it had disappeared from the tall island and come to this one. He had to get out of here.

But as Barrett burst out of the tall grass, he realized that there was nowhere to run to. The endless ocean stretched in front of him. There was nothing to do except turn left and keep going.

Just then, he spotted a familiar figure running along the water.

"Vera!" He called, jogging after her.

Vera skidded to a halt, waiting for Barrett to catch up. She could hear screams coming from the other side of the island, back at the Cornucopia, but she forced herself to remain calm.

"You made it!" She sighed in relief as Barrett approached, "I ran part of the circumference of the island. It seems like we're going to have to swim if we want to get out of here—though there is some coral over there that we might be able to walk on."

Barrett just stared at Vera for a long moment, his features blank. She reached for his hand.

"Well are you coming or n—"

Silently, Barrett swung his hatchet at his ally, digging the blade directly into her chest. Vera's eyes widened dramatically, her mouth agape. She stared at the wound as if she couldn't believe it was there.

With a deranged cry, Barrett forced her to the ground and began hacking at her chest repeatedly. Vera's face twisted into an expression of pain. She threw her hands up, as if to protect herself, but Barrett just kept chopping at any bit of flesh he could reach. Warm flecks of blood spattered his face with each blow and he welcomed every one of them.

Quickly, Vera's strength waned. She stopped fighting and fell limp underneath Barrett. He drew back, panting, staring into her glassy blue eyes.

A sad smile crossed his face. "I'm so happy I was able to help you."

Then he turned and took off towards the end of the island that contained the ship. The coral Vera had mentioned was there, only two or three feet under the water. It stretched from here to an island Barrett hadn't seen earlier—one that was covered in a lush green forest.

He splashed out into the water and began to head there.

Back on the island, Rowan timed his entrance into the Cornucopia perfectly, waiting to make sure the Careers had already gotten in and out. While they were busy chasing after other tributes, he swooped in to grab his kamas. But as he was coming out, he suddenly sensed someone behind him. A presence he hadn't noticed. He whipped around, lashing out with his kama.

There was a small gasp. Rowan's eyes widened. He had been expecting it to be a Career-not his own district partner. Aluma clutched at her deep stomach wound, whimpering in pain. She hadn't even realized she was passing so close to Rowan. He had been on her blind side. The injured girl stumbled a few steps, then sunk to the ground, bleeding profusely. Her eyes locked with Rowan's and shone with confusion at the betrayal.

Rowan just stared back, at a loss for words. Before he could completely process what he had done, Zale came flying at him, wielding a long pair of dual knives. Rowan knew he should have run for it; but he remembered this boy from training and he wasn't about to back down so easily. Not without a fight.

He went on the offense immediately, swinging his kama right at Zale's face. Zale leaped to the side, narrowly avoiding being hit and drove one of his blades forward. But Rowan immediately blocked with the handle. Zale tried to strike with the other knife—he blocked again.

Rowan could see anger blooming in Zale's eyes. The Career hadn't expected the District 9 boy to be so formidable. But he wasn't about to give in.

With a frustrated growl, Zale surged forward, feinting and jabbing at Rowan. Even though Rowan remained light on his feet, Zale's constant barrage of attacks began to overwhelm him.

Just when he thought he was losing strength, Seyuto came running over, shouting, "Hey, Zale! Give me a knife! They're all out of knives!" He groped for one of the blades in Zale's hands.

"What are you doing, you idiot?!" Zale shouted as Seyuto disarmed him.

Rowan saw his opening and took it, running west in the direction of the low island. Seyuto began to pursue, laughing and rapping, "Don't think you're so cool now, do ya little freak, I rule, I'mma cut you up till ya drool—what d'you think you're doing?!"

Zale grabbed the collar of Seyuto's wetsuit and yanked him back.

"You're lettin' him get away-!" Seyuto yelped.

Without a word, Zale dug his blade into Seyuto's throat, cutting him off. As soon as he did so, he tossed the body aside, letting it hit the ground with a thud. Seyuto lay there, twitching, his throat gurgling as he tried to form words.

Zale didn't hang around to watch him die.

At the start of the Games, Isaac had waited on his plate, watching everything play out. He couldn't bring himself to look away. He was trying to wait for an opening, but then he heard Athena scream there were only weapons. Maybe running in wasn't worth it anymore. Maybe it was time to leave.

_But I can't swim. _Isaac thought, terrified. His gaze fell upon the beached ship at the end of the island. _Maybe I can hide there._

He hopped off his plate, praying that no one would see him as he ran across the open ground. He made it halfway—then something heavy slammed into him from behind. He hit the ground hard, gasping as the air was knocked out of him. He rolled over, but another tribute was suddenly on top of him, holding two tiger hook swords. One lay flat against his throat…the other was pointed directly at his face.

"Go on," Ian said in a mocking tone, "Beg for your life."

Isaac's heart felt like it was about to burst. He tried to summon enough courage to spit right in Ian's face, but one of his swords was beginning to choke him and he couldn't do it.

"Well?" Ian pressed.

Isaac felt a trickle of blood run down his neck. "Please!" He burst out, gasping for air, "Please! I have a family that needs me!"

Ian frowned, looking unimpressed. "Come on, you can do better than that. Don't we _all _have families we need to get back to?"

"Please!" Isaac begged, feeling pathetic as tears formed in his eyes, "They need me! And I…there's someone I need to go back to. I have to set things straight with them. Please!"

Ian had heard enough. He drew back slightly and drove one of his swords into Isaac's shoulder. The other one he sliced his leg with. Isaac emitted a small cry and struggled underneath the Career, but he was no match for Ian's strength. Ian repeatedly stabbed Isaac in various places, taunting, "You still have time to change my mind!" as he bled out. But he refused to play the Career's one-sided game any longer.

Defeated and full of regrets, Isaac finally closed his eyes and fell still. Ian paused, smile fading slightly. _I just killed someone. _He thought, expecting to feel a rush of pride and excitement.

But it didn't come.

"Hey!"

Ian looked up to see Sagitta standing with her bow and arrows, motioning him to follow her.

"Come on, don't just stand there! They've all cleared out and headed into the brush. Let's see if we can catch a few more before they leave the island."

Luckily for them, the two District 3 tributes had already managed to meet up with one another at the start of the Bloodbath. Together, they had headed in the direction of the pirate ship, clutching one another's hands. They ran past it, only to be greeted by water.

"There!" Wiley said, pointing towards the leaning ship.

A canoe was resting in the sand, tied to the side of the boat with a thick rope. Wiley got there first and began fumbling to untie it.

"Let me do it!" Spark snapped, smacking Wiley's useless hands away and taking it from there.

She managed to undo the rope in a matter of seconds. Together, they hauled the canoe towards the water. They could hear shouts in the distance—the other tributes were coming closer.

"Hurry up! Put some muscle into it!" Spark said urgently, fear creeping into her voice.

"What do you think I'm doing, lady?!" Wiley retorted, sounding frantic.

Luckily, there was a small ledge they could dock at. They dunked the canoe into the water, Spark climbing in instantly. "Good, there are two paddles. Get in and let's go."

"HEY!" Wiley shouted suddenly, making Spark cringe. Something on the island had caught his attention.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, "Get in!"

Wiley looked back at Spark, his blue eyes wide with concern. "There's a little girl over there." He explained. Then he went back to yelling at the younger tribute, trying to get her attention.

Thimble was a little ways off, crouched at the edge of the water. She was trying to summon up the courage to swim, but couldn't seem to do so. Then she spotted two tributes with a canoe. The male tribute saw her at the same time and began calling to her, inviting her to join them.

She hesitated. The threes stitched on their shoulders told her which district they were from. They appeared harmless enough, but she couldn't be sure. At this point, she didn't have many options to choose from.

Suddenly, Thimble heard something crashing through the dune grass, not far behind her. She turned around, only to see Quinoa stumble out, her face bright with terror. Sagitta appeared right behind her, her bowstring pulled taut.

With a sharp _twang _she released the arrow. It buried itself directly into the poor girl's skull. Quinoa let out a short cry and fell.

But Thimble was already running for her life, having accepted Wiley's invitation. She leaped into their canoe just as they shoved off from land, each holding a paddle. Thimble glanced back at the shore to see Sagitta streaking towards them, stringing another arrow.

"Duck!" Thimble shouted.

The three of them hunched low in the canoe as an arrow zinged over their heads.

"I need backup, here!" Sagitta shouted, sounding aggravated.

Thimble popped up, "Afraid to get wet, princess?" She yelled, "Wouldn't wanna lose your pretty little crown!"

Sagitta shot another arrow in her direction, but Thimble was ready for it and ducked back down, snickering.

"…Please don't do that." Wiley muttered.

Spark lifted her head slightly. "She's leaving. Come on, we've got to get out of here. Fast."

She and Wiley each took a paddle in hand and began rowing strongly towards the forested island. Thimble sat idly in between them, shaking with relief. It was good to be alive.

Sagitta's call for backup sent every Career sprinting from the Cornucopia area and towards the boat. Jade started to follow, thought better of it, then stayed behind to guard the dwindling supplies of the Cornucopia. She counted each dead body in sight. _One, two, three, four, five, six…only six? There'd better be more than that. Sagitta better have gotten Piston, but I don't see his body anywhere._

Suddenly, there was a loud rustling. Jade whipped around to see Flick burst from his cover within the grass and go running towards the water. Even though he was a fair distance away, she began to give chase. Just as he entered the surf, she summoned all of her strength and threw a knife at him.

It missed and splashed into the shallow water. Flick, paddling with all his might, quickly went out of range. Muttering profanities, Jade went to retrieve her knife, but the waves had sucked it away.

"Are you kidding me?" She muttered, kicking at the sand. At least no one had to know.

It was too soon to feel relieved for escaping death. Flick struggled to keep above the water. Giant swells threatened to force him under, but he continued to flail his arms and legs, doing all that he could to stay above the surface. He formed a beat in his head, forcing himself to move his limbs to the rhythm of it in order to stay alive.

Blinking the saltwater out of his eyes, he spotted a dark head bobbing through the waves ahead of him, slightly off to the left. The twin braids told him that it might be Viola—it looked like she was heading to the same island as him. He told himself to focus on her, trying to distract himself from the fact that he could lose his strength and start drowning at any moment.

He could see Viola's head dunk under the surface a few times, as if she were having trouble keeping her head above water. Flick silently willed her to keep going.

Then the screaming began.

Flick nearly had a heart attack as Viola's cries reached his ears. He forced himself to keep going, but he was unable to tear his gaze away from what was happening.

The little girl had started splashing violently, screeching with pain as if some unseen foe were attacking her. It was the worst sound in the world.

"MOMMY!" Viola cried, causing Flick to cringe. "DADDY! Someone help-!" He thought he could see a cloud of blood rising around her, but it was hard to tell. He hoped it was just his imagination. _Please just be my imagination._

But then she was gone, her screams abruptly cut off as she went under. The water churned where she had been moments before.

Flick kept going, trying not to hyperventilate. He had to get to land. _Now. _But even as he continued to forge on, Viola's screams still rang in his ears, leaving a deep scar in their wake.

Back on the island, the Careers had gathered at the pirate ship. Sagitta hurriedly explained what had happened.

"An alliance of three sailed off in a canoe earlier. I found another one, but as you can see…" She pointed to the second canoe. It hung off the side of the ship, but it was high out of reach due to the boat heavily tilting to one side.

"Well what are you waiting for?" Xander demanded, eyes wide with excitement, "Go in, climb up, and cut it down!"

The sides and bottom of the ship's hull was riddled with holes. Xander darted towards the largest gap of all. But just as he took a step inside, an explosion shook the boat and the ground that the Careers stood upon, knocking them back.

"JAAADE!"

Back at the Cornucopia, Jade heard what sounded like an explosion, followed by a wail that definitely belonged to Ian. Trying not to panic, she went rushing towards the sound. All sorts of awful scenarios established themselves in her head as she ran. But then she found the other four Careers standing by the battered ship, looking rather shaken. Ian was there too, unharmed.

"Xander…?" He called tentatively, peering into the ship's gaping hole. There was no response.

"What happened?" Jade demanded, skidding to a halt next to her ex, "Why did you scream like that?"

Ian turned to Jade with wide eyes. "I…I didn't scream." He mumbled, trying and failing to appear calm.

Jade looked around, confused. Her heart was pounding in her chest. "Where's Xander?" She asked.

"He went in to cut down that canoe…" Sagitta said in a distant voice, blinking repeatedly, "We needed it to chase another alliance…but there was an explosion."

"He's dead." Zale finished flatly.

Jade was momentarily seized by shock. It was a terrible thing, losing a Career so early on. At least it was Xander, and not someone important, she decided. "Okay. So why don't you two swim after the tributes who took the canoe?" She said, shooting a glare at Meredith and Zale.

"They're sailing over fire coral that lies just below the water," Meredith explained quickly, "It would be unsafe to pass so closely to it without a boat for protection. Someone needs to go in and cut down that canoe _now_—time is of the essence."

No one volunteered. No one wanted to risk meeting the same fate as Xander, who had been here one second and gone the next.

"Go get Seyuto!" Jade demanded.

"I killed him." Zale said immediately, unable to keep his mouth from twitching into a proud smirk.

"We could have used him!" Jade said, starting to feel desperate, "Come on, wasn't there someone else who tried to join us?"

There was a long pause as everyone recalled the final member of their alliance.

Jade's expression darkened.

"Where's that Frezno kid?"

**RIP Bloodbath tributes. :( It was really tough choosing who would go down first, and I must have changed the list at least five times, but I finally nailed it down at one point and swore I wouldn't change it. I wanted the death toll to be higher than the 42nd too. Thank you so much to everyone who gave me one of these characters, I'm sorry you had to see them go so early and I'm sorry they didn't really get dramatic send-offs, but I like to keep the Bloodbath fast-paced.**

**Last time I wrote obituaries for each tribute that died at the end of the chapter. This time I'll do it when they're shown in the sky. Because sometimes it's unclear whether or not a character died…or maybe the chapter ended on a really cool note and I don't want to inject a stupid author's note after it. OR people will scroll to the bottom to review or just check who dies before reading, and spoilers are no fun. So this is how it's gonna be from now on.**

**Speaking of which…you guys do realize I don't cater to fans when it comes to picking the Bloodbaths/Victor, right? First and foremost, I cater to myself and who I want to write or what I think makes for a good story. What a selfish biscuit, am I right?! Don't get me wrong, I love seeing your predictions (there were some really good ones, give yourself a pat on the back!), but I'm just saying…the reviews and the polls will get you nowhere in your quest for spoilers. ;) Everything was decided back during the Reapings.  
**

…**Oh and who noticed that the first Bloodbath I ever wrote started with a bang and the last one ended with a bang? Eheheh…okay, time to go into hiding. I'll come out in a week after all the torches and pitchforks have been packed away.  
**


	22. Voices of the Past

**A few things to cover before we begin...**

**Special thanks to The Head Gamemaker (not the one IN the story, sillies, the dude reviewing the story) for the new cover! And it actually fits and looks awesome! ;_; AND lunarisque made another awesome one for the 42nd! I have the best fans ever. TTwTT I would also like to take a quick moment to thank all the guests who review. Last chapter, I tried to reply to all the reviews and thank everyone, but obviously I can't do that for people who don't have accounts. So here is my thanks to you! Every review counts! :)  
**

**Next...I drawed da fanartz dis time. :o It wouldn't let me put a link so just go to my deviantart (twilitprincess . deviantart . com) and you can find them in the Hunger Games folder after clicking browse gallery. I drew all the characters...I hope you like them as much as I like mango-flavored frozen yogurt with peppermint patties. Did you all treat yourself to one last time? OH I ALSO DREW A MAP. A MAP! It's in the Hunger Games folder too.  
**

**In answer to the guest questions...on why there are mutts so early: I DO WHAT I WANT /rides off on mini motorcycle/ Oh. Also, it's no fun if it's not unexpected. As for why there were so many girl deaths, that's because I'm sexist. Just kidding. That was a joke, of course I'm not sexist against my own sex. To the other guest, the days are absolutely jam-packed with activity, this isn't like the other stories where many things were glossed over. But we'll at least reach the cannons in this chapter.  
**

**Results ****of the favorite character poll are in! Congratulations to... /drum roll/ ...Buck! I'm sure he'd be much obliged to find ya'll like him so much. Here's the complete list:  
**

**1st Buck with 9 votes**

**2nd Xander with 8 votes  
**

**3rd Ian and Wiley with 7 votes**

**4th Thimble and Al with 6 votes**

**5th Viola, Barrett, and Rowan with 5 votes**

**6th Jade, Flick, and Claire with 4 votes**

**7th Sagitta, Meredith, Vera, and Piston with 3 votes**

**8th Spark, Zale, and Seyuto with 2 votes**

**9th Isaac, Athena, Aluma, Quinoa, and Rina with 1 vote**

**How nice to see everyone got at least one vote. Well, I'll letcha know when the next major poll is up. I'll probably just have goofy ones in between. Onto the story!**

_I'm alive._

There was no mistaking it. The throbbing pain in the back of her head and neck told her so. With a light groan, Claire rolled over and forced her eyes open. The bright blue sky stung to look at, but it helped her reestablish where she was. She was sprawled on the warm ground near the Cornucopia. A faint smell hung in the air…the smell of blood.

But the battle was over. Silence told her that everyone had gone. All she could hear was a soft wheezing off to her right. She rolled her head around to see Aluma lying a few feet away, clutching her stomach. Blood seeped out between her fingers. Her good eye seemed unfocused, staring off into space.

_She needs help! _Claire thought. She was about to get up and go to her, when a nearby male voice exclaimed, "Ooh, pirate sword!"

Claire snapped her eyes shut and feigned death. Her heart was pounding so furiously in her chest that she thought it would burst. When no one attacked, she opened her eyes a crack, trying to get a look at the mouth of the golden horn. The District 11 male was shuffling casually out of the Cornucopia, adjusting a cutlass on his newly acquired sheath and belt. He didn't seem to realize she was alive.

Then there was a loud shout that nearly caused Claire to jump and ruin everything.

"Frezno!"

Al stopped in his tracks, looking alarmed. Jade came storming up to him with the rest of the Careers tailing her. When she saw the weapon in his hand, she slowed a bit and took on a more pleasant expression.

"Hey, Al. Would you mind coming with us? We have a favor to ask." Jade said in a controlled manner.

But Al wasn't a complete idiot. He gave a nervous laugh, quickly backing away. "Uhh, a favor? Like, killin' another tribute? How bout I just stay here and guard the Cornucopia for you…"

"There's nothing to guard." Jade growled impatiently, striding towards him.

Before he could flee, she shot forward with a burst of speed and brought her fist smashing into his face. Claire winced at the sound of the impact, trying not to cry out. Al sunk to his knees with a groan, holding his aching jaw. A moment later, he spat out a mouthful of blood—and a tooth.

Al just stared at it, feeling the new blank space in his gums where a premolar used to be. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

"Come on," Jade said, hoisting him up on his feet and snatching away his cutlass, "Let's go."

He didn't offer any resistance. "But where are we going?" Al asked anxiously, wiping his cut lip as they led him off towards the ship. No one answered him. Their footsteps faded as they went marching off through the dune grass.

Claire waited a full minute, listening hard to make sure they had gone. Then she hurriedly clambered to her feet. As she did so, her head injury screamed in protest and she nearly passed out again. But she worked through the pain, darting over to Aluma.

"Hey," She said, shaking the young girl's shoulder gently, "It's okay now. They've gone. Is your wound deep?"

Aluma didn't respond. Her breathing had faded. Her good eye had glazed over with death. Even though she didn't know her, Claire felt overcome with grief. Tears formed in her eyes and she gently brushed Aluma's hair away from her face in order to close both of her eyes.

"Bless you," Claire choked out, "You're so strong and beautiful…I'm so sorry this happened to you…" Her throat closed with sorrow, but she couldn't think of what to say anyways. She wished she had tried a little harder to know the other tributes before they left this world. She felt pathetic, unable to say anything about the dead little girl in front of her.

But it wasn't safe to stay here any longer. Claire wiped her eyes, gave Aluma a small nod, and then darted into the Cornucopia to see what weapons were left. There were very few to begin with and all of the knives had been taken. But she knew herself well; she wouldn't be stabbing anyone anytime soon. She would have _liked _to stab the Careers for hurting mere children, but getting into a fight with one of those monsters would just be suicide.

A shield hanging on the wall caught her eye. Luckily, it came with a strap, like all of the other weapons. She quickly secured it on her back. Shields could still be used as weapons. In last year's Games, a Career had bashed a little girl's skull in with one. Claire shuddered and pushed the thought away.

After that, she set off for one of the nearest islands—the one with the giant tree at the top of it.

* * *

"H-Hey, what's all this? Where're Xander and Seyuto?" Al stammered, as Jade pushed him along.

"Dead." She told him, "And if you don't want to join them, you'll get your butt inside the ship and cut down that canoe up there!"

Al's eyes widened with disbelief. His mind raced to make sense of this. _Cutting down the canoe must be dangerous, that's why they're sending me in. Something must be in there. _He turned to look at the Careers with a smooth expression, trying to ignore their pointed weapons aimed at him. "If you want me to cut that down," He said slowly, "I'm gonna need my pirate sword."

"It's a cutlass, genius." Jade said, carefully handing it to him, "Now don't get any wise ideas."

Al grinned. "You're the wisest idea I've ever had—"

"Get going already!" Ian interrupted.

"We don't have all day!" Sagitta snapped in the same moment.

Zale stepped forward and shoved Al into the ship through a gap. Al braced himself to be attacked by some sort of muttation, but nothing happened. There was nothing but silence and the smell of something burning. Nervously, he observed his surroundings.

The hull of the ship was bigger than he imagined. The ceiling was riddled with holes that filtered sunlight down to the floor. Wooden pillars, some straight, some diagonal, held everything up. A few large chests lay on their sides in one corner. Al could see a thick layer of dust had settled onto every surface. The canoe was located up higher; there was a porthole he could reach through to cut it down. But navigating the tilted interior of the ship would be a challenge. Then again, he had plenty of experience scaling trees to pocket some fruit.

He tried to hoist himself up by climbing straight up the diagonal pillars that ran from the wall to the floor. His muscles ached slightly as he strained to reach the porthole. Being a few inches taller definitely would have made this easier…

_There! _He managed to get a hand on the porthole. Grunting, he heaved himself up using one arm. Popping his head out of the porthole, he spotted the canoe tied just a foot below him. The Careers stood a good distance beneath him, glaring up at him.

"Can he go any slower?" Meredith muttered, pacing back and forth impatiently.

Jade offered up a smile at least. "Thank you for doing this Al!" She called, "You're so brave!"

Al grinned. "I try!" Then, without hesitation, he cut down the canoe. It landed with a heavy thud in the sand. Sagitta was instantly upon it, preparing to drag it towards the sea. Al began to lower himself down, when he heard Jade speak again.

"Wait. Kill him when he comes out."

He could feel his blood turn cold. _Maybe Jade isn't the girl for me. _He thought wryly. _One too many mood swings. _As he scrambled back down to the ground, he quickly tried to think up a solution to his current predicament.

"Get out here, we don't have all day!" Sagitta yelled, her voice slightly muffled.

_How many more times is she going to say that? _Al thought, disgruntled.

A rock came flying in through a gap and went skittering along the wooden planks. Then another. They were throwing stones in through the entrance. Al couldn't help but wonder why they were so afraid of coming in here. Then it hit him: the explosion from earlier. The many holes in the ship. That awful smell...it was coming from the charred remains of Xander.

"Frezno!" Jade's angry voice snapped him out of it.

He had to get out of here. Looking around wildly, he spotted a gap in the far side of the ship, near the floor. It was sealed up with sand, but it was just big enough for him to squeeze his shoulders through. He darted towards it and began worming his way in, trying not to cough as sand filled his eyes and nose.

"I don't see him. Throw in another rock." Ian suggested, trying to peer into the ship's dark interior, "Maybe it'll trigger an explosion."

"There he goes!" Meredith burst out suddenly, pointing past them.

There went Al's retreating form, disappearing quickly through the dune grass as he ran towards the other end of the island.

"Let's get him!" Zale growled, moving to give chase.

"Wait!" Meredith said in a strong voice, "Let's split up. Zale and I will swim after Frezno to that far island. Someone needs to stay behind and dispose of the last few weapons."

"I'll do it." Ian said instantly.

Meredith nodded. "Good—Jade, Sagitta, you two take the canoe to that tall island."

"What about the alliance that sailed off in the other canoe?" Sagitta questioned, narrowing her eyes.

"They could be anywhere by now. You could easily see more of the arena from up there, so it would be to our advantage if you go there to try and figure out the arena's layout. Maybe you can catch a few stragglers while you're there." Meredith explained quickly.

"Okay now let's _go_." Zale said impatiently, taking off after Al. Meredith followed right behind, brandishing her spear.

Jade and Sagitta exchanged a glance. Together, they began dragging the canoe towards the water. Ian just stood there, waving a pleasant goodbye as they went.

"Have a good trip!"

"Thanks, don't bother helping us or anything!" Sagitta grunted, shoving the boat through the sand.

"I knew you would understand." Ian laughed.

* * *

Buck had escaped the Bloodbath in a blaze of glory.

He hadn't wasted a second. He dove straight into the water and started swimming strongly towards the first island he laid eyes on. It was actually a pleasant experience. The wetsuit was lightweight and easy to move in. The water was the perfect temperature, cool to the touch. Everything was great, as long as you didn't acknowledge the fact that a dozen kids were getting murdered on the island you just deserted.

Buck arrived on the low island to find that it was some sort of marsh or swamp. Long stretches of grass weaved alongside rivulets of seawater. Clusters of mangrove trees dotted the center of the island along with a few moss-covered logs.

Not wanting to stay out in the open, and wanting to put as much distance between the Careers and himself as possible, he began to run. The grass beneath him squashed under his feet, causing him to sink a little bit with each step. But Buck pushed on. He kept running…until something stopped him in his tracks. Literally.

He had stepped into a mud hole. He hadn't been watching where he was going and wound up running right into a small area of nothing but _mud_. It reached up to his ankles and held his feet there like glue.

"What the hell?!" Buck growled, trying to pick his feet up. But it was like standing in cement. "You've gotta be kiddin' me."

Cursing, he tried multiple times to yank or wiggle his feet out of the mud. But he only sunk in a little bit further. A slight sense of panic began to tug at his chest. He had heard quicksand was just a myth—but now he wasn't so sure.

"Oh, come on! This is the worst way to die!" Buck growled, realizing that the muck was now reaching up to his shins. All of Panem was probably laughing at him right now. Laughing and anticipating his death. He took long, deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Surely, there had to be some way out of this. This was just a test from the Gamemakers. They wanted to see if he was smart or strong enough.

A flash of movement caught his eye. Buck twisted his head around to see the District 9 boy bounding across the marsh.

"Hey! Over here!" Buck shouted, waving his arms. He crossed his fingers that this tribute wasn't being pursued by anything.

Much to Buck's relief, Rowan spotted him and started making his way over cautiously. His face was relatively calm as he approached, his eyebrows lifting slightly as he took note of the predicament Buck was in.

"Oh, thank goodness. Whew!" Buck let out a big sigh, trying to give Rowan his most charming smile. "Thanks so much for stoppin' by. Hey, you're that guy from trainin' right? Nice to see you made it through the Bloodbath! What was yer name again?"

"Rowan." Rowan replied, standing at the edge of the grass and observing the mud plain with narrowed eyes. "…Are you stuck or something?"

"Why yes I am," Buck said in the friendliest voice he could muster, "And I'd be much obliged if you could help me out, partner."

For a long moment, Rowan stared at Buck with a blank expression. Buck waited patiently for his answer, attempting to look endearing. He hoped those puppy dog eyes and dimples Darby was always talking about were working their magic.

Then Rowan gave a snort and said, "Give me one good reason why I should."

Buck's façade dropped and was replaced with a furious glare. "Because it's the decent thing to do. Now I ain't some back-stabbin' Career so you gonna help an outer-district brother out or not?!"

Rowan smirked deviously. "I think not. After all, there can only be one victor, right?"

Buck just glared daggers at Rowan. He wanted to argue, but he knew the older boy was right.

Rowan turned and began to walk away. "The Careers will be coming here soon." He called over his shoulder, "Keep them busy for me, will you?"

Buck shouted a string of curses at Rowan's retreating form. He couldn't believe it—escaping the Bloodbath for _this_. Could he ever catch a break?!

He struggled hard to free himself, but nearly pitched forward and landed facedown in the mud. The thought of suffocating was enough to calm him down. And so there he stood, casting anxious glances behind his back every other minute. Just waiting for the Careers to come and kill him. He stood out like a sore thumb on the flat landscape. This wouldn't take long at all.

The ominous sound of the first cannon gave him a scare. He quickly composed himself and counted the number of dead tributes off in his head.

_Ten. _

Ten children, dead within the past hour. He had to remind himself that it was a good thing. The more dead tributes, the better. The closer he was to going home. Sighing, he cast another glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was coming.

A good ways behind him, he saw a lone figure reach the shore of the swamp-island. The unknown tribute pulled themself out of the water and began dashing in his direction. Buck squinted his eyes, trying to make out who it was. It certainly wasn't a Career, not at that height. But the stocky build was that of a male. As the tribute drew closer, the boy clicked in his head as the District 11 male. In other words, his _other _'outer-district brother.'

"Hey you!" Buck yelled, in no mood to turn the charm on this time around, "Hey! Get over here!"

Al saw him and came racing over, his mouth agape with confusion. Buck noted that if he were a dangerous tribute feigning to be stuck, this guy would be as good as dead. Rowan too. Lucky for them, he wasn't.

"You better hide, man. The Careers are gonna be here soon." Al said, looking jumpy upon approach. He ran a hand through his soaked hair and it sprang back into its former position.

"Help me outta here, will ya? I'm stuck!" Buck pleaded, trying to demonstrate that he couldn't lift his feet.

"Sure, sure." Al looked all around, searching for some sort of branch. When he didn't see one in the vicinity, he ran off towards the mangrove trees to find one.

Buck was all ready to curse him out, but Al immediately came running back with a thick branch in his arms. Standing on the edge of the grass, he offered it to Buck, who wrapped his arms around it.

"Hang on tight…!" Al said, getting a firm grip on the log and beginning to pull.

For a moment, Buck's feet refused to budge. But Al refused to give up, continuing to yank on the branch in small bursts of strength. With a determined grunt, Al gave a great heave and Buck's feet were freed with a loud squelching sound, though his shoes were lost in the process. The action sent Al stumbling backwards. Buck, free of the mud, threw himself forward onto dry land, clawing at the grass for a hold. It took him a moment to regain himself.

"Phew…much obliged, District 11, much obliged." He muttered, glad to feel solid ground beneath him. Or as solid as the ground could get on this flimsy island, anyways.

"You can call me Al." Al said, helping Buck to his feet, "Now c'mon, we gotta get outta here. The Careers are on my tail."

"Over there." Buck pointed towards the cluster of mangrove trees in the distance. He took a step, and then realized that he was still barefoot. "Aw, shoot! My boots—" He looked back to the mud pit, only to realize that his shoes had sunken out of sight.

"There's no time, man!" Al said urgently, already taking off.

The two of them ran like never before, hurrying to reach the trees before the Careers showed up. The thick, twisted roots of the mangroves made for the perfect hiding spot. The two tributes squirmed their way under them and crouched there, ankle-deep in water. Just as they disappeared from sight, Meredith and Zale arrived on the island.

They instantly located Al's obvious set of footprints. Each step on the marsh left a clear indentation in the grass and mud, making it easy for Meredith and Zale to follow him at a fast rate.

But then they came to the muddy ditch where Buck had been stuck.

"There are three sets of footprints…" Meredith murmured, observing the crisscrossing trails, "Two tributes headed off together towards the mangrove trees…the other took a different path, towards the far end of the island."

"So let's go," Zale said, stepping in the direction of the trees.

"Wait!" Meredith said firmly, "I think it would be in our best interest to follow the solo tribute. We should always outnumber our opponent to ensure victory. Besides, I…was unable to get ahold of my best weapon at the beginning." She looked bitterly at the spear in her hands.

Zale considered her words for a long moment, realizing that she was smart not to be so reckless. "What if Al went the other way?" He wondered.

"Does it matter? So long as we make a kill." Meredith said reasonably.

"You're right." Zale nodded, "Let's go."

The two of them rushed off down the path Rowan had taken. Al and Buck watched them from their hiding spot, each sighing in relief.

"I wonder if Rowan believes in karma." Buck mused, unable to keep a vicious smile from appearing on his face.

"Huh?" Al blinked, looking confused.

"Nothin'. Let's get outta here, soon as they're gone. I hate this stinkin' island already."

Al's eyes lit up hopefully as he realized he may have found himself a partner.

* * *

Panting, Claire dragged her soaked body out of the water and sprawled across the rocky shores of the tall island. The distance between the two islands had been further than she thought. Her shield had only served to weigh her down, but somehow, she had made it in one piece.

_I can't stay here. _Claire thought, feeling exposed. She brushed her waterlogged hair out of her face, trying to peer uphill. If she could get to the top, she might be safe. And surely she would be able to see the entirety of the arena from such a height.

Despite her aching muscles, she forced herself to her feet and began to pick her way up the steep hill. Her head began to pound and the world around her tilted violently. She had to stop and steady herself, convinced that she would slip down the incline and plunge back into the ocean.

After taking a moment to gather herself, she used both her hands and feet to make her way up the grassy slope. As she approached the top, voices reached her ears. It sounded like an entire crowd of people having some sort of party at the peak.

_I must be hearing things because of the concussion, _Claire decided. But with each step, the noise grew. Fearing it may be the Careers, she flattened herself to the ground and prepared to flee. But how could they have beaten her to the island? They couldn't have. She raised her head slightly and saw no one, though she could have sworn someone was there. Refusing to let this deter her, she rose to her feet and continued to walk. As she came closer and the ground began to flatten out, the noise suddenly halted. But now she was sure no one was here. There was nothing but a number of strange stone slabs poking up from the ground.

_There's so many! _Claire thought in awe, approaching them curiously. _What are…oh._

Her blood turned cold.

They were gravestones. They stood in a number of clusters, not far from the giant tree, which looked even larger up close. Many dark-feathered birds with large crests rested separately on each gravestone; others flocked together on the branches of the tree. All of them were looking at Claire with dark, beady eyes.

Chilled to the bone, she approached the strange sight with caution. The birds turned their heads, watching her as she passed by them. The fact that they refused to fly away unnerved her. She avoided eye contact, trying to make her way towards the tree. She knew its leafy branches would be the perfect hiding spot. As long as the birds were willing to share…

Suddenly, a lilting male voice said, "Don't you want to see me take my clothes off?"

Claire screamed and whirled around, clapping her hands over her mouth to stifle the noise. But no one was there. Not a soul. Still, she could have sworn she heard that voice somewhere before…

Realization suddenly dawned on her. No longer fearing the birds, she approached the nearest one and peered closely at the gravestone it was sitting on. The words were old and faded, as if this stone had been here for decades, but she could still make out the name.

_Hip Hoprock._

At the same moment, the Jabberjay opened its beak and said in a perfect replication of the boy's voice, "I'm not into necrophilia."

A few other jays began to perk up, quoting phrases said by previous tributes. Claire paced around the clusters of gravestones, reading off the names.

_Cole Miller. Carson Anthony Rivera. Zane Ronan. Calista Sirrom. Hapi M. Saltzman. Lucifer Haze. Ravish Blackwell. _

Claire felt disgusted. These were the tributes of the past two Hunger Games. This was the Head Gamemaker's third anniversary; she must have wanted to commemorate it somehow.

With a creeping dread, Claire noticed that many gravestones were blank and unoccupied. She didn't have to guess who they were reserved for.

By now, the Jabberjays had dissolved into senseless yammering, just as they had been doing when Claire first reached the island. Their voices blended together, but she could still pick out a few phrases here and there.

"Please don't kill me!"

"Have any other fears you'd like to face today?"

"They see us as mere puppets. We are new toys that lose their luster after engaging in play for about a month. Then we are thrown away, into a forgotten landfill of memories."

The insensitive injustice of it all made Claire want to cry and scream at the same time. No longer able to bear listening to the voices of the dead, she hurried towards the large tree. A few Jabberjays roosted in the lower branches, but they were silent, staring upwards at something.

Claire approached carefully, trying to see what they were looking at. Among the leaves, high up in the diverging branches, she spotted the black material of a wetsuit. Standing on her tiptoes, she could see a thin, freckled hand grasping a limb, but she couldn't see the tribute's face.

For a moment, she wracked her brain for which tribute had freckles. "Flicka…?" She guessed, trying to get a better view.

The tribute shifted and peered down at here. The spiky hair and dramatic chocolate brown eyes confirmed her suspicions.

"…My name is Flick." He said, his voice flat with despair, "But thank you."

Claire wondered why on earth he was thanking her. Little did she know, her mistake had reminded him of his friends from home. It comforted him—but only slightly. Because in his mind, he could still clearly see Viola disappearing under the water in a cloud of red…

"Are you okay, Flick?" Claire called up gently, taking note of the desolation in his eyes.

Flick didn't respond, lost in his memories.

Claire could hear the Jabberjays beginning to quiet down from behind her. She wasn't sure why, but their silence was just as unsettling as when they were speaking. Before they had completely quieted, she caught one last quote in the voice of District 11's Julia:

"Wake up! You have to get out of here! The Careers are coming."

They were the words of the past. But Claire couldn't stop herself from leaving the base of the tree to check. And then she saw them—Jade and Sagitta docking a canoe at the base of the slope. Claire backed away, going towards the tree where they wouldn't be able to spot her. She was fairly certain they hadn't seen her…but they would be up here within minutes.

"Flick!" Claire called up desperately, "The Careers are here! We have to leave!"

Flick just looked down at her blankly, uncomprehending. Frustration seized her to her roots.

"You get down here _right now_!" She practically screamed, stomping her foot aggressively. "Or else I'll make you wish you were never reaped!"

The force behind the words was enough to snap Flick out of his funk. He hurriedly scrambled down the tree and landed in the grass next to Claire, who instantly grabbed him by the arm to lead him to safety.

"Wait, there's a cliff there!" Flick said, pulling her back.

With a small cry, Claire stopped where she was. She had assumed the tall island sloped downwards on both sides—from the island with the Cornucopia, it seemed perfectly round. She never could have guessed that the other side hid a sheer drop. The gigantic tree was practically teetering on the side of the cliff—some of its roots could be seen weaving among the rocks and packed soil.

"Then that means we're trapped." Claire said, looking for some sort of escape route.

Flick didn't look too worried. "No, we just climb down." He said, pulling out of Claire's grasp.

"Be careful!" She shrilled, hovering over him nervously.

Flick wasn't afraid. The cliff was jagged, with many outcroppings and indentations to place one's foot. He began to climb down with ease.

Not wanting to look like a coward in front of someone so young, Claire took a deep breath and began to follow him. Flick went about ten feet down when he found a large indenture he could fit neatly into. It was like a small cave.

"In here!" He whispered.

Claire appeared a moment later, looking relatively calm. She shoved herself into the cave with him—there was just enough room for the both of them. Then they waited.

"…What's your name?" Flick asked in a hushed voice.

"Claire." She replied, feeling a little embarrassed for not having told him sooner. "Now shush, I think I hear them coming…"

Flick grew still. He became so quiet that it didn't even sound like he was breathing. Claire had to admit she was impressed. She strained her ears, trying to hear a catch of Jade and Sagitta's conversation.

"Wow, would you look that this view!" Jade's voice rang out clear as day. "But jeez, that's a long way to the bottom. Good thing it's not dark out or I would have walked right off this cliff."

Claire realized she must have been standing right over them, at the edge of the cliff. They must have already explored the graveyard by now and seen the Jabberjays.

"I could have sworn I saw some tributes flee in this direction…" Sagitta's cold voice sounded a little bit muffled; as if she were standing back a ways.

"Maybe they drowned." Jade suggested hopefully. "Anyways, we should definitely make this our camp so that we can see every island. How many are there? One, two, three…oh my God, what is that."

"What?" Sagitta wondered.

Claire could feel the fear in Jade's voice. She wondered what she possibly could have laid eyes on to spark such a reaction.

"That _thing_. On the island with the forest…!"

A long silence followed her words.

"I can't tell from here. It looks like…some sort of bear." Sagitta said slowly.

"There. It just went into the trees." Jade said, "…Let's not go to that island anytime soon. That thing was huge."

"Hopefully it'll take care of the other tributes for us."

"Agreed."

The voices faded as Jade and Sagitta retreated down the hill. Claire looked at Flick. His eyes were wide in the shadows of the cave. She gave him a brief nod.

It was time to leave.

**Will Rowan escape the clutches of District 4? What did Jade and Sagitta see on the forested island? Will the Hip Jabberjay ever take off his clothes? Find out on the next episode of…FINAL JUDGMENT! BWA BWA BWAAA! **

**Here's a hint for you: **_**Jabberjays don't wear clothes.**_


	23. Karma

**Happy (day before) Derby Day! Tomorrow, channel all of your spiritual power into Overanalyze so I can win me some moneys.  
**

**Another thank you to SomeRandomScribbler for making a cover for the 43rd! Now we have three awesome new covers for the entire trilogy! Also a big thank you to 111hungergames111 who made a super cool trailer with my derpy pictures. XD And also to The Head Gamemaker for making cool profile thingies on his tumblr! Waah, you guys, stop making me feel all these feels! I'm gonna be so sad when this is over! Just kidding, I'm an emotionless sack of bones. LET'S KILL SOME MORE CHARACTERS! GEEHEEHEEHAHAA!  
**

**Anyways, the link to the trailer and pictures are on my profile because it's so difficult to put them on these chapters. I've got a new section on there that has all of the fanmade products because they are AWESOME! :D And I really do appreciate them. Thanks everyone for making this a cult classic.  
**

Running across the coral hadn't been a good idea after all. Barrett had expected it to be like running on solid ground, but the surface was uneven and kept breaking with each step. At one point, it completely collapsed beneath him and his left foot got stuck up to his ankle. Desperate to escape, he had ripped his foot out of its boot and run the rest of the way.

That had been a big mistake. The coral sliced into his skin like a knife through butter with each impact. After making it to land, his foot had started burning. Moaning, Barrett hid himself in a clump of bushes while Alpha and Omega reprimanded him.

"You're so stupid. Why would you do that? Because you're stupid." Omega told him, as he observed the damage.

The bottom of his foot was scraped and red with blood. Raised wheals were quickly appearing on the skin. Barrett bit back a scream. The sight of the injury scared him. _Am I going to die? _He wondered, feeling sick to his stomach.

"Look!" Alpha gasped, adjusting his tiny pair of glasses.

Barrett's head whipped up. This time, he really did scream.

Out on the water, standing among the coral, was the corpse. It was closer than before. He could see its rotting skin dripping muck into the crystal clear water. It remained frozen, just staring at him.

"What are you going to do?" Omega asked quietly, as if it might hear them.

Barrett looked to his foot, speculating whether he could walk on it or not. When he looked back up, the corpse was gone. He could feel his heart leap up into his throat.

Barrett forced himself to his feet and ran, snatching up his hatchet as he went. Pain lanced up his leg from his injury, but now wasn't the time to deal with it. His heart pounded viciously in his chest, threatening to explode. He felt certain he was going to die at any moment. Either the corpse would come and do away with him, or he would die of fear before it could happen.

He was so consumed with terror; he didn't bother to wonder where he was going. He stumbled blindly into a clearing, trampling vegetation in his wake. There was a sharp gasp. Barrett halted and blinked, trying to focus on where he was.

Before him stood three tributes. They were all gathered around a canoe, looking at him with wide eyes. Or rather, looking at the bloody hatchet in his hand with wide eyes. Barrett stood there for a moment, just panting and staring back.

Then, without a word, he wheeled around and vanished in the opposite direction. Wiley, Spark, and Thimble let out a sigh of relief.

"We could have taken him." Thimble scoffed, as the three of them returned to shoving the canoe inland. "He was a mess."

"In case you haven't noticed, none of us possess any weapons." Spark said matter-of-factly, "So he…Wiley, where are you going? Get back here and help!"

Wiley had run on without them, very focused on something that lay ahead. "Look at this!" He said in awe, coming upon a large cave that sloped down into the ground. It was partially hidden by foliage. "Oh, this is the perfect place to hide the canoe! Just look at it! Isn't it great?"

Spark and Thimble brought the boat the rest of the way over while Wiley marveled at his discovery. Once she had caught up, Spark stepped forward to observe the cave suspiciously. "It seems more like a tunnel than a cave." She said, squinting into the yawning darkness, "I don't think we should go in. It doesn't appear natural."

"Well where _else _are we going to hide this thing?" Thimble asked irritably. She had only known Spark for a short while, but already the older girl was grinding on her nerves. This wasn't the same ditz that had appeared on national television. This was a bossy girl that seemed to shoot down every idea that wasn't hers.

Then again, Wiley's idea to take the canoe out to sea and leave the arena hadn't exactly been brilliant. Especially since they had no food or water. But that didn't mean she had to be rude about it.

Spark was feeling the same way about Thimble and kept questioning why Wiley had to invite her along for the ride. _I suppose I'll just have to make do. _She thought sourly, saying, "Fine, hide it in the tunnel. Just cover it with something in case someone or some_thing _uses it, all right?"

So Wiley and Thimble did exactly as she said, ensuring that the canoe would be hidden from all angles. Spark just watched, listing off a number of things they needed to do.

"We should make camp somewhere else. I know there are plenty of fruit trees around, but finding water and shelter is more important right now. We'll eat when we've found them."

_Maybe I should just leave. _Thimble thought, tempted to go running off without a word. But having a canoe was a necessity in this arena. She pondered stealing it when Wiley and Spark weren't looking, but she wasn't sure she could drag it all the way back to the water and man it by herself. Plus, even if she didn't like Spark, that was a pretty poor way of repaying Wiley for his kindness.

And so she decided to stick with them—at least for now. The alliance of three embarked deeper into the forest, wading through bushes and passing under all sorts of fruit as they went. But Spark refused to let them eat anything until they had found shelter.

After walking for a while, they stumbled upon a small, crystal clear lake at the center of the island. The still water appeared almost mirror like, reflecting the sun that shone directly above. Around the edges grew all sorts of tropical fruits and vegetables—avocados, peppers, bananas, pineapples, mangoes, and more. It was like stumbling upon a hidden oasis.

"Wow!" Thimble breathed, walking towards the water's edge.

"Be careful!" Spark called, sounding paranoid, "This is too good to be true."

Thimble ignored Spark, crouching by the lake and admiring her reflection. Without that layer of makeup, she was back to looking like her tomboy self. She still looked fairly attractive despite the day's hardships. Her face remained clear of acne for the time being, but how long would that hold up? Sighing, she dipped her finger into the water and carefully tasted it.

_Freshwater. _She thought in relief. She didn't drink anymore in case it might be contaminated. One could never be too careful…

"Wiley!" Spark's shrill exclamation made Thimble whip around in alarm. "What did you do? Did you just eat that?!"

There was Wiley standing there with a bright papaya in hand. The papaya had a bite out of it. "Um…yes?" He said, looking confused.

"You idiot! It's probably _poisoned!_" Spark said, gaping at him.

"Poisoned?!" Wiley yelped. He dropped the papaya and it rolled towards Thimble.

She picked it up and eyed it as if she could tell whether or not it was deadly just by looking at it. "If it is, we'll find out soon enough." She said, looking up at Wiley expectantly.

He stood there, shaking and wringing his hands. A moan escaped his lips. "Oh no…am I going to die? I'm going to die, aren't I? Spark!" He rounded on his district partner. "I know I don't act like it, but your company is really lovely, I really do appreciate all you've done, and…and…what was your name again, darling?" He looked inquiringly at Thimble.

"Thimble." She said, pursing her lips. Not that it mattered. With Wiley, she was either _lady_, _darling_, or _love_. It was enough to make you puke.

"Right! Thimble! Thimble, I know I just met you, but you are one dynamite gal. Best of luck to you, love, to both of you!" He crumpled to the ground, holding his head between his hands. A pathetic sob wracked his shoulders.

"Oh, get up!" Thimble snapped, rising to her feet and kicking Wiley in the shins.

He let out a small cry of protest.

"If you were poisoned, don't you think there would be symptoms by now?" Thimble said irritably. "You probably would have died before you even finished your little speech there."

Wiley paused for a moment, just staring blankly at each of his teammates. Then he let out an elated laugh. "I'm not going to die!" He reached for the papaya, asking, "So that means I can eat it then…?"

His words were interrupted by a distant howl that sent chills up their spine. It seemed to come from all around them…but somehow, it sounded muffled. The ground shook slightly and Spark was the first to realize it. Whatever was howling: it was right beneath them. And it was coming.

"Spoke to soon, Wiley," She said, grabbing his arm and pulling him to his feet, "Let's get out of here! Come on, RUN!"

The eerie chorus of howling continued as the three of them raced away from the lake and into the cover of the trees. After a minute of sprinting aimlessly through the woods, Spark ran out of energy and slowed.

"W…wait!" She gasped, but Wiley and Thimble just ran on without her, not even bothering to look back.

Spark stopped to catch her breath, her leg muscles burning. Sweat was causing her bangs to cling to her forehead. She wiped at them, frustrated. She could no longer hear the mysterious howling. Whatever it was, it had stopped pursuing them, or had at least shut up for the time being.

But then a different noise caught her ears—a soft gurgling. Spark followed the sound, making her way through some sparse river cane. She came upon a strange-looking tree. Having read a great number of books, she instantly recognized it as a banyan tree. She smiled proudly, approaching its hanging roots. This would be the perfect place to hide.

And right nearby was a bubbling spring with a tiny waterfall. Knowing that spring water was naturally clean, Spark cupped her hands under it and took a nice, long drink. It tasted pure enough and soothed her aching throat.

_This is a great place to make camp. _She thought, smiling wearily. _Too bad I lost my alliance._

"Spark? Spark!" Wiley's voice suddenly filtered into her hiding place.

"Shush!" Thimble replied, "You've gotta be more careful, Wiley."

"Sorry…"

Feeling relieved, Spark quickly made her way out of her hiding spot. When she appeared unexpectedly from the river cane, Wiley leaped back in surprise, but relaxed when he saw whom it was.

"There you are." He sighed, giving his teammate a tired smile.

Spark returned it. "Come look at this. I found the _best_ place to make camp."

"Of course you did." Thimble snorted quietly.

Spark shot her a glare. "Just wait until you see it."

She led them back through the river cane, towards the banyan tree. By the looks on their faces, they were very impressed with it. Even Thimble had nothing to say. This was the perfect place to hide, with both the cover of the river cane and the protective roots of the large tree.

"Great! Well done," Wiley said, sitting down by the spring and looking content for once in his life, "So we just wait here until all of the tributes inexplicably die one way or another. Excellent!"

Spark and Thimble exchanged a glance.

"Yeah…that's the plan."

* * *

Not long after leaving Buck and making his way to the other side of the island, Rowan encountered a strange sight. A small saltwater stream separated him from a tiny section of the island that was littered with large, red flowers. They dotted the marsh grass, looking extremely out of place.

Curious, Rowan waded through the water, his feet squishing on the strange surface beneath him. Just as he reached the atoll, a putrid stench hit his nose. The flowers smelled like some sort of rotting corpse. The stench of spilt blood—the stench Rowan had smelled at the beginning of the Games—was entirely similar. But somehow, this was far worse.

He couldn't bear it—the smell felt like it was seeping into every crevice of his body, making his head and stomach whirl. Suddenly, Rowan keeled over and began hacking violently. Before he knew it, he had regurgitated his breakfast into the water. It tasted foul and only triggered an even worse response. He continued to throw up until his stomach had nothing left to give. Until he could only sit there with his throat burning and his nose dripping.

He felt lonely and miserable. Wiping his mouth, Rowan crawled away from the putrid water and the awful flowers. Once he found a clean spot, he thrust his head into the ocean, allowing it to cleanse him. But the salt did very little to cure him. If anything, it burned his throat even more. He lifted his head out, running a hand through his hair to keep it out of his face.

That's when he saw them: Zale and Meredith. Approaching fast.

Rowan clambered to his feet, kama in hand. Immediately, his vision blurred. The world seemed to pulsate around him. The corpse flowers had done more damage than he had thought, just by the mere smell.

His mind raced as he decided on what to do. When it came down to it, hurting another human being wasn't hard. Slashing open Aluma's stomach had been as easy as cutting flax. He could do it again in an instant. But as much as he wanted to kill a Career, he knew he was outnumbered. So he turned and ran towards the ocean—the flowers on his left, the approaching tributes on his right.

Just as he reached the water, he heard Zale declare, "Wait, he's mine! I want to be the one to kill him."

_You can try. _Rowan thought, plunging into the ocean. Gripping his kama tightly, he began to swim blindly through the water. He hadn't really pinpointed where he was going—he just needed to escape.

But his body weakened quickly due to his fatigued condition. He felt the waves pummeling him, stopping him from getting anywhere. He continued to fight, starting to fear that he just might drown.

Then there was a tug on his ankle. Something began yanking him back to the island. Rowan's first thought was that it was some sort of muttation. Spluttering, he tried to twist his body around and flail his kama at it.

His eyes locked with Zale. Expressionless, Zale continued to pull him back towards the island with outstanding strength. Rowan thrashed in his grip, but while the water weakened him, Zale took to it like a fish. He easily towed Rowan back to shore, despite the good fight he was putting up.

But as soon as he felt the grass beneath him, Rowan was back on his feet, facing Zale. Meredith stood back a little bit, looking unconcerned that she would be sitting this fight out.

Her eyes ranged over Rowan's dripping body. "You look tired," She commented idly.

Zale raised his two long knives and scraped them together. "Should I draw it out, Mere?" He asked, eyes glittering devilishly.

Rowan could find no words. All he could do was stare at the two killers, his breath coming in ragged pants.

Meredith shrugged half-heartedly. "I don't like it, but that doesn't mean the sponsors won't."

Without a sound, Zale lunged forward. Rowan tried to block, just as he had done earlier, but he was too weak. Zale pushed right through his defenses and dug a knife into his chest. He cried out in pain. Anger sent adrenaline pumping through Rowan's body. In one quick movement, he brought his kama back and brought it swinging at his opponent. The tip of the weapon bit through flesh. Zale hadn't been prepared for it.

A long red gash appeared on his face, ranging from below his ear and down towards his throat. He stumbled back a few steps, mouth gaping. Rowan stared in awe. The wound was shallow, but he was just shocked he had managed to land such a clean blow. Without wasting a moment, Rowan stepped forward and swung again.

If he could take Zale down, he just might be able to take Meredith on his own. He could do this.

But Zale had already retreated a few paces with surprising agility. "You got lucky once!" His spat viciously, "That's not going to happen again!" His arm came back—and then the knife went sailing from his hand. Rowan hadn't been expecting him to throw it. It lodged in his right shoulder, just near his chest. Pain shot through his arm and he nearly dropped his kama. Blood spurted from the two wounds, but he would not give in.

With a grunt, he brought his arm back to try and chop Zale's head off. But it was like he was moving in slow motion. Zale was instantly in front of him, holding his arm at bay with one hand and using the other to dig his knife up into Rowan's ribcage.

He felt the fight beginning to drain out of him. But then he thought of Ruse and his family. He had to see them again. He made a promise. Rage filled every bone in his body as he swore to himself that he would fulfill that promise.

Rowan lurched away, breaking free of Zale's grip. The knife parted from his body and droplets of blood flew through the air. He brought the kama back for a final swing—but then Zale unexpectedly threw the full force of his body into him before he could move.

Rowan crashed backwards and hit the ground hard. Zale was immediately on top of him, stabbing his dual knives into whatever weak spot he could reach—the neck, the chest, anything. Blotches of blood appeared dark against Rowan's wetsuit. Rowan rolled around, lashing out with every part of his body.

The images of home were still strong in his mind. With the thoughts of his loved ones, he could escape this battle. He could still win.

But then the pictures in his mind began to turn dark. He tried to cling to them…but they slipped away as easily as water through his fingers. Even the pain was beginning to disappear.

No. He never could have won. He was stupid to think such optimistic thoughts. Hadn't he said himself that he was a realist and not an optimist? He was always fated to die. At least it had been him and not Ruse. It was selfish, but he would have rather died here than live a life without his best friend. Then again, it would have been selfish to let him volunteer too.

For a moment, fear seized Rowan. He was truly dying. This was what death felt like.

Then again, it wasn't so bad. He closed his eyes, contentedly. The blood flowing from his body warmed him. Like someone had placed a soft blanket over him…

A cannon fired.

"That should do it." Meredith said quietly, clearing her throat.

Zale finally took a deep breath and stood back to stare at his work. Rowan lay on his back, his body coated with a number of wounds. He had been a tough one to kill—Zale was glad Seyuto let him get away after all. His weakened state was what granted Zale's victory.

A light touch on his cheek brought him out of his thoughts. Meredith was standing by his side, blue eyes wide as they flicked over his face. For a fleeting moment, he wondered what on earth had come over her. Then he realized she was just checking the wound he had sustained.

"Okay. It doesn't look too deep, but it's still bleeding." She confirmed, drawing back. "Maybe we should get back to the others."

Zale reached up and wiped at his face. His hand came away, coated in red.

"Don't touch it!" Meredith chided, giving him a stern look, "Just leave it be so it can try to heal. Anyways, there's something I wanted to look at." She turned and began to stride along the saltwater channel, looking down into it as she did so.

"Did you find another tribute?" Zale asked, instantly thinking of the two that had evaded them earlier.

Meredith shook her head. "No. But look at this."

Zale's breath caught in his throat at the sight before them. The many saltwater channels that whittled through this island came together at the center. The water was slightly deeper here and in it were a number of what appeared to be…eggs. Clear-colored eggs as big as grapefruits. Some smaller, some larger. Each one had some strange creature curled inside. The creatures each had a set of little black pupils that seemed to stare at the tributes from within each egg.

"What the heck…" Zale breathed, squinting at the closest egg, trying to figure out what sort of animal it contained. He felt a twinge of annoyance that he couldn't begin to identify it, despite being from District 4.

"I'm getting a bad feeling from these fish eggs—or whatever they are," Meredith said, teetering on the edge of the land as she stared into the water, "Let's destroy them."

"Gladly."

Without anything to fear, the two of them waded into the water. Unspeaking, they began to stab through the eggs with their knives and spear. Meredith was instantly bored with the process. This was too easy. Aside from that, she hated using this spear when she could have been using knives. But she had a good feeling that they were doing the right thing. Leaving these unidentified eggs alone could only come back to bite them later on.

"Let's not tell the others about this," Zale spoke up suddenly, bringing her out of her thoughts.

Meredith looked at her district partner curiously. His gaze was serious, but she could see a devious glint in his eye. "Why not?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

"If we go early, then they get to deal with this problem themselves." Zale said coldly.

Meredith paused. "I seriously doubt we'll be going early. This arena was practically made for us," She said quietly, "But I don't mind keeping it a secret. If I die, I could care less who wins."

"Me too," Zale agreed, "Though I'd rather have you win, if anyone."

"Same here." Meredith said dryly, feeling a bit irked by his tone. She drove her spear into the last remaining egg with extra force and watched the hatchling inside die a swift death. When she was sure they had destroyed every last egg, she turned to Zale.

His face was smeared with blood. And even if it didn't seem to be hindering him, they couldn't take any chances.

"Come on," Meredith told him, "Let's get you back to the others. Maybe they'll have something for your injury."

* * *

Completely out of breath, Buck and Al finally made it back to the island they had started on. They approached the abandoned Cornucopia wearily, their feet dragging in the sand, leaving wet footprints. Each step reminded Buck that he had already lost his shoes at the start of the game. He would probably never wear shoes again. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at such a thought.

The stench of blood reached his nostrils. Buck's head shot up immediately and he caught sight of the bodies strewn around the Cornucopia. He had to stop and avert his gaze. He didn't know what he would do if he saw Claire's bushy head among their ranks. He secretly hoped the feisty girl had made it out alive.

Al forged on ahead, completely oblivious. He was approaching the Cornucopia without a second thought, wondering if there were any weapons left for his new buddy.

A strange feeling suddenly struck Buck. Didn't the cannons sound a long while ago? The hovercrafts should have come to collect the bodies, like they always did. In fact, the only reason they _wouldn't _come is if—

"Hey!" Buck hissed, hurrying after Al and stopping him in his tracks, "What do you think yer doin'? Ain't it obvious the Careers left a guard?"

Al's mouth popped open as realization dawned upon him. The two of them took a few steps back, scanning their surroundings warily. But not a soul moved. It was just them, the deceased tributes, and the swishing blades of the dune grass.

With a small gasp, Al's eyes suddenly went wide. He slowly pointed a finger in the direction of one of the bodies. "That one's not dead." He said in a hushed voice.

Buck froze; trying to pick out which tribute Al was talking about. Sure enough, it was the boy from District 1. He was sprawled out on the ground with his eyes closed. But the smirk playing on his lips and the swords clutched in his hands gave away his ploy.

"So what d'you reckon we do?" Buck growled.

Before they could decide anything, Ian sat up abruptly, declaring, "You know, the point of the Hunger Games is the _kill _people. But all I see is one coward helping another." He climbed lazily to his feet, brushing sand off his dry clothing.

"Should you really be the one talkin'?" Buck shot back, "Speakin' of which, where are all yer Career friends?"

"Honestly." Ian sighed, giving a light shrug, "Can't you figure it out for yourself? They're off doing their job. Or are you so uneducated that you need me to explain what that is?"

Gritting his teeth, Buck took a threatening step towards the Career. Al gave a nervous laugh. "C'mon, bud, he's just trying to provoke you…"

Ian just smiled, saying nothing. For a full minute, they stood there staring at one another. Buck's muscles were tense as he prepared to spring into action at any moment. Al slowly pulled out his cutlass, looking uncertain.

"It appears we've reached a stalemate." Ian said, smirking, "Well, I'll be honest with you two, I've really had enough killing for one day and I'm feeling pretty nice. Just let me do my job and discard all of these weapons. I won't get in your way." He motioned to the bodies around them, which were all equipped with said weapons.

"What if I told you I don't plan to leave this island without gettin' me one of them fancy weapons?" Buck said dangerously, refusing to look at the corpses by Ian's feet.

Ian twirled one of his tiger hook swords in his hand, looking bored. "Then we're going to have a problem. But aside from that—is there anyone you'd like to say goodbye to?" He once again pointed to the dead tributes, as if he were trying to provoke some sort of reaction. "Perhaps you'd like to steal a pair of shoes off one of these corpses. Walking around barefoot can't be good in the long run...unless you're used to being unable to afford shoes?"

Buck stubbornly refused to buy into Ian's jibes. He would rather go barefoot for days before doing as he said and prying shoes off a dead body; no matter how utilitarian it might be.

"C'mon," Al whispered, "I saw some treasure in that ship back there. It might be dangerous, but it's worth checkin' out, right?"

They began to move off, giving Ian a wide berth. He stayed where he was, a mocking smirk on his lips. Once he was out of sight, the two of them could breathe again.

"So, Spazzy McGee…" Buck said, trying to forget his nerves, "Why'd you help me back there?"

"Huh?" Al said, looking confused. _I'm Spazzy now?_

"What do you have, short term memory loss? Back on the other island! The mud pit!" Buck felt embarrassed just thinking about it. But he tried to play it off like it was nothing.

"Oh!" Al chuckled, "I couldn't watch you suffer, man."

Buck shot him a death glare.

Al caved immediately. "All right, all right. I was hoping you'd want to form an AL-liance. See? We could be the Greed Machines!"

Buck just stared at Al. "The Greed Machines? What the hell are you goin' on about?"

Al grinned and pointed to the looming pirate ship. On the side, in big dark letters, was the word _Greed. _"Pretty cool name for a ship. _And _an AL-liance!"

"Why d'you keep sayin' it weird?" Buck mumbled, starting to get fed up with his brother from another outer-district.

"My name's Al. Remember?" Al said, as they finally made their way out of the dune grass.

"No, I don't care to." Buck said, focused on the ship. He approached it carefully, wondering if any Careers could be hiding in its depths. A moment later, he realized Al was no longer by his side.

The tribute had spotted something further down the beach and taken off towards it.

"That idiot!" Buck grunted, racing after him. "Hey, it's not very smart to go runnin' off on your own when there's a Career just over the…" He trailed off.

Al had stopped and knelt by one of the fallen tributes. It was a little girl with light brown hair. An arrow was buried in her skull with a single spot of blood shining around it. Buck slowly walked up, looking at the younger boy for some sort of explanation.

"…She was my district partner." Al said in a sad voice. He hadn't paid a whole lot of attention to her during their time in the Capitol. But seeing her gone…it was like finally waking up. Confirming the reality of the Games.

Something caught his eye. A few feet away was Quinoa's cornhusk doll she had always been carrying around. Al reached over and grabbed it. Then he carefully tucked it into her arms, making sure that it would journey safely back to the Capitol with her.

Buck just watched, trying not to let this scene affect him. A rustling reached his ears and he turned to see Ian making his way through the dune grass towards them.

"There ain't a weapon on this one!" Buck snarled, "Now, git!"

"Oh, I must have missed her." Ian said, frowning at Quinoa, "Well, I still managed to get rid of everything. What are you two up to?"

Buck ignored him. "C'mon," He said, motioning to Al to follow him into the ship.

"I'd be careful if I were you!" Ian called after them, "Xander went in there…and he never came out!"

"He's right," Al said, stepping carefully into the shadowy interior, "Watch where you step."

Buck swept his gaze around the ship, keeping his eyes peeled for anything odd. But the hull was very much the same as earlier. At the entrance of the ragged gap, there were a few scorch marks on the torn floor. Buck knelt down and ran his hand over them. _District 2 went in and didn't come out, huh?_

"Wire traps." Buck said suddenly.

"Huh?" Al, who had carefully been approaching the pile of chests in the corner, stopped and looked back.

"Ship's probably rigged with explosives," Buck said, climbing to his feet and making his way towards Al.

A glint caught his eye. A shaft of sunlight cut through the upper deck and filtered into the dark hull. It encased some sort of thin, glimmering string that flashed from certain angles. It was set up around the pile of treasure chests, protecting them from all sides.

"I knew it!" Buck said in a hushed voice, pointing towards it, "See?"

Al let out a huge sigh. "Whew! That's twice you've saved my bum today. I was about to walk right over there!" A shiver passed through his spine at the thought of blowing up. He scratched at his neck to relieve it.

"Good. Then I don't owe you nothin'." Buck said, his gaze fixed on the wire trap. He slowly made his way through the ship, shuffling along the wooden planks. When he reached the wire, he nimbly stepped over it. Al followed. Now there was nothing standing between them and the treasure chests.

Al was barely able to contain himself, darting towards the largest one. "This is great! They'd better be unlocked!" He let out a small cry of joy as the chest popped open with no hassle at all.

Buck said nothing, busily prying open a different container. What he found inside confused him. It looked like some sort of pink, wrinkled bag. The material was waterproof, which made sense. As he pulled it out, he spotted a handheld air pump at the bottom of the chest.

"A raft!" Buck exclaimed, grinning. "What'd you find?"

"Umm…" Al's voice wavered. He was sitting limply in front of his treasure chest, just staring at its contents. "Dynamite, matches, and…g-gasoline?"

Buck peered at the contents of the largest chest. Sure enough, there was a large red jug that read 'gasoline' in bright yellow letters and a few bundles of dynamite. There were a few cases of matches as well. Buck bravely reached in and snatched one up.

"This'll be good fer cookin' meat." He said, moving on to open the next case. He let out a small sound of satisfaction when he found it filled with water bottles and a good amount of food, along with a few pouches. Al immediately slipped in and grabbed one. Buck shot him a glare, but decided it didn't matter. They had found the treasure together.

"Here come the Careers!" A sudden voice echoed off the walls of the ship. Buck and Al gave a start, looking to see Ian leaning on the wall at the entrance to the hull. He smiled innocently. "Good job pointing out the wire trap by the way."

"Come on, let's get outta here!" Al said hurriedly, jamming all sorts of things into his newly acquired pouch.

Buck remained calm. "I'm callin' yer bluff, Blue-Eyes!"

"Blue-Eyes? That's the best you can come up with?" Ian said, looking disappointed, "Anyways, why don't you come out here so you can see for yourself?"

"He wouldn't tell us the Careers were comin' if they were really comin'." Buck muttered, "He's just tryin' ta scare us."

"Better safe than sorry!" Al said, his arms full of supplies. He hopped over the wire trap and began to make his way towards the exit. "It's never good to stick around the crime scene for too long!"

"It's never good to come _back _to the crime scene either." Ian added, with a glare at Al.

Buck just sighed and quickly gathered up a few things of his own, including the raft and the air pump. He followed behind Al and was relieved to see Ian step aside and let them out.

Al quickly headed towards the ocean to check for any approaching Careers. Thankfully, not a single tribute was in sight. He hurried back to see Ian and Buck facing off, looking at one another suspiciously.

"Here, Shortie," Buck said, handing Al the crumpled raft without taking his eyes off Ian, "Pump some air into this thing, will ya? And cover it with some mud or wet sand while yer at it. That stinkin' color can be spotted across the ocean."

"Sure," Al said, weighing the air pump in his hand, "We're gonna take turns, right?"

"Right." Buck said, turning his attention to Ian. "Fer now, I'll keep an eye on this one. Gimme yer sword."

Al seemed satisfied with the plan and handed over his cutlass to Buck without a second thought. But Ian seemed relaxed. He planned to stay true to his word, as long as neither of them attacked. After bleeding Isaac out and witnessing Xander blown to pieces he felt rather sick to his stomach. He needed a breather.

"So…" Buck said in a light voice, as if he were a friendly neighbor trying to make conversation, "Where'd yer girlfriend run off to? You don't think one of those cannons could have been her, do you?"

"My girlfriend?" Ian repeated with a disbelieving laugh. Almost imperceptibly, his eyes flicked towards the tall island with the tree. Buck caught the movement, but kept a straight face as Ian answered, "My girlfriend is back in District 1, living the good life. Something you couldn't possibly begin to grasp."

Buck was quickly tiring of Ian's jabs. "It may show that I've grown up livin' a hard life," He said evenly, "But at least it wasn't handed to me on a silver platter. In a day or two, you'll be beggin' to go home. And I'll be thrivin'."

"Sure you will," Ian snorted sarcastically, "Because I'm sure the conditions of District 10 are completely the same as a Hunger Games arena."

Buck tried to laugh it off. "No, I suppose not. Thank goodness fer that."

Time passed by slowly. Buck and Al switched off once in a while, taking turns blowing up the raft and keeping an eye on Ian. But Ian was sitting calmly in the sand, happy to chat with whoever was 'guarding' him.

"So…Jade's your girlfriend, huh?" Al said, scratching at his head nervously. He had switched off with Buck a few times, but had finally found the courage to speak to the Career.

"No," Ian said, narrowing his eyes. He knew where this was going. "We used to date, but I broke it off."

"Is she single?" Al pressed, looking almost hopeful.

"Yes," Ian hissed, getting more annoyed by the moment.

Al grinned victoriously and let a small laugh slip out. "I knew it. She likes me."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Because I'm sure her wanting to kill you is an expression of her love."

"You really think so?" Al said, and Ian had to wonder if he was being serious or not.

Buck distracted them from their conversation, hollering, "All done! C'mon, Oliver Twist, let's get outta here! Mr. Diva's girlfriend shoved off to that tree island, so we ain't goin' there, that's for sure."

"Huh?" Ian's eyes widened, wondering how they could possibly know that.

"I thought you said she wasn't your girlfriend!" Al whined, looking disappointed.

"Just get out of here!" Ian growled. "You two are lucky I'm so nice!"

Buck suppressed a snicker. Finally, they had irked Ian as much as he did them. Buck and Al quickly proceeded to camouflage the raft with wet mud and sand. They filled the floatation device with the supplies they had gained, and then shoved off from shore, leaving a pouting Ian behind.

Buck, always looking ahead, had acquired a piece of driftwood to guide them towards the forested island to the east of the Cornucopia. It wasn't as useful as a paddle, but they couldn't be picky. While he steered, Al kicked back and relaxed.

"This is great! We got some food, water, matches…oh, can I have my pirate sword back?"

_Shoot. _Buck was half-hoping Al would forget about handing him the cutlass, but he gave it back without a fuss. "Too bad I didn't manage to get me a weapon." Buck sighed.

"That's all right. I think we'll be fine." Al said, holding up his small backpack with a sly grin.

Buck held back a retort about how food wouldn't stop a raging Career, but he didn't feel like arguing. And so they floated on in silence. The ocean water washed away the mud coating the raft, but they made it to the next island over without running into any trouble. If the Careers on the tall island had spotted them, they hadn't acted on it. Just to be sure, they sailed the long way around, putting the large forested island between them and any danger.

Once he was sure they were safe and out of sight, Buck steered the raft to shore. As soon as the bottom scraped against sand, Al hopped out of it and strode towards the trees, looking proud of himself.

"Finally out of danger!" He exclaimed, patting his cutlass and his small backpack, feeling very lucky indeed. "Well, maybe not completely, but for the time…hey, where are you going?"

He turned to see Buck shoving off from shore with his large stick. The raft easily cleared the waves and began drifting back out towards to sea.

"See ya, cowboy!" Buck called.

Al's jaw dropped. "What?!"

"Don't worry, the Careers ain't here." Buck replied, trying to pay no mind to his guilty conscience.

"What if they come here?" Al said, his voice rising in volume as Buck floated further and further away.

"Then you'd better start learnin' how to swim!" Buck said.

"I know how to swim!" Al shouted back, his voice cracking slightly.

"Good! Then I won't feel bad about takin' the raft and leavin'!" Buck said, trying to tell himself the same thing.

"But why?!" Al shouted, splashing into the water to make his voice heard, "I thought we were going to be an alliance! The Greed Machines!"

"Look!" Buck hollered at the top of his lungs, "You've got a target on your back and this is every man for himself! Besides, I ain't gonna be apart of an alliance called Greed Machines!"

Al yelled a reply, but the sound was lost among the waves. With a shrug, Buck turned away and began to guide the raft towards the next island he hadn't spotted yet. It was a small, sandy island that stood in the distance. A lone cabin rose out of the water with a single palm tree waving in the breeze. It seemed like a trap. Buck decided he would just follow this current and see where it took him.

_Is he still watchin' me? _Buck wondered idly, but he refused to feel any guilt over the matter. He had been nice enough to take Al somewhere safe, without Careers. And he hadn't robbed him of his cutlass or his backpack either. Then again, he still had most of the food, water, and the matches…

Buck winced as guilt struck him like a hammer. "Don't look…don't look…dang it." He looked.

There was Al, still standing quite pathetically on the shore, watching him go.

Buck cursed under his breath. "Hide, you dumbass."

But there was no going back now. Buck turned away and sailed on, continuing to tell himself that he wouldn't look back. Al finally seemed to realize that his partner wasn't coming back. With one last glance, he turned and vanished into the forest.


	24. Real or Not Real?

**Overanalyze came in 11th, I am disappointed in everyone's spiritual power.  
**

**Let's see what's new...Xander's creator drew a cute picture of her tribute so that's up on the fanart section! I've also been drawing more lately and this is crazy, but I'm actually uploading stuff, so follow me on deviantart maybe?**

**And now a moment of shameless advertising: You should read the Let's Play of Dangan Ronpa on somethingawful forums (actually that's impossible right now because of the paywall) or watch the anime when it comes out because it is just amazing and ghgdksjrgh…and as a future project, I will be writing a SYOC Dangan Ronpa story. You can message me for the details, but there are 14-16 characters instead of 24 and it would just be so nice to write gaah. Gingericus19 is also writing one and is in need of characters, so please feel free to help him out as well! He just started up and you can find the profile form on his page. **

**I'm opening shop for sponsors now. Let me list the rules for you:**

1. Sponsor a tribute by PM. BY. PM. THAT'S BY PM PEOPLE.  
2. Only people who have reviewed consistently may sponsor. I'm sick of trying to drag people out of the shadows to review. It's fine, you're welcome to be creepy lurkers, I'll stop bugging you about it. If you're worried you haven't reviewed enough, you're probably fine, I just don't like people coming out of nowhere to sponsor tributes they never bothered to leave an opinion on.  
3. You can only sponsor once. Creators cannot sponsor their own tribute.  
4. Sponsors add flair to the story and nothing more, they will not make any life-changing turn-arounds. I'd recommend sponsoring food/water if you can't think of anything, as it's hard to come by in this arena.  
5. I'm very picky. I might not approve of your choice. Just so you know. Good luck!  


Ian paced impatiently along the shore of the island, wondering where on earth his teammates could have gone. His mind kept asking, _Should they be taking this long? Did that lone cannon belong to one of them? Shouldn't have Meredith and Zale taken care of Frezno—so why did he show up here again? _

Each minute that ticked by increased Ian's nerves. It didn't help that the bodies were starting to stink. Since they were strewn all over the island, he couldn't seem to place himself at a good distance that would allow the Gamemakers to bring in the hovercraft. He wished they would just disregard that rule—he wasn't about to try hitching a ride on the claw that harvested the bodies.

He supposed he could just pile the bodies at one end of the island and retreat to the other. But he didn't even like looking at them. There was no way he was going to touch one.

Finally, a canoe appeared on the horizon. Ian was relieved to see Jade and Sagitta sailing towards him, each wielding a paddle. He walked out to the edge of the water to meet them.

"How did it go?" He asked anxiously, watching the two girls drag the canoe onto shore.

"We couldn't find anyone," Jade said, looking worn out. "I could have sworn I saw some of the little ones head to that island, but they were nowhere to be found. Where are Zale and Meredith?"

"They haven't come back yet." Ian replied, "Anything else to report?"

Jade opened her mouth to respond, but Sagitta cut her off. "We'll tell you everything once the rest of our alliance gets here. Have some patience."

"Oh, come on! You can tell me." Ian said, feeling annoyed with Sagitta's rejection.

"I'm not going to repeat myself twice." She said firmly.

Jade recalled the lone cannon that had sounded not long after the Bloodbath. She voiced her concerns aloud. "You don't think they could have run into trouble, do you?"

"Of course not. Have some faith in us."

The three Careers turned to see Meredith making her way towards them. Zale trailed behind, grimacing slightly. The crescent-shaped gash on his face still leaked a bit of blood. Zale pressed a hand to it, trying to relieve the stinging. It was trying to heal itself, but swimming through the ocean had hindered its progress.

"Zale offed the boy from District 9." Meredith explained, putting her hands on her hips and looking at each Career in turn, "I take it the rest of you were unsuccessful?"

"I wouldn't say that," Jade said, sounding defensive, "We made a few discoveries on our own. So what happened to killing Frezno?"

"We lost him." Meredith confessed, "But honestly, how hard can it be to kill him? Rowan was a bigger enemy by far."

Ian opened his mouth to tell them that Al had come back, but he instantly snapped it shut. They really didn't need to know, did they? They would probably get angry that he didn't do anything. So he kept quiet, letting Jade and Sagitta report their findings.

"We thought we'd make camp on that island with the tree. You can see everything from up there. The only drawback is there's a creepy graveyard and some talkative birds, but nothing too dangerous."

"Talkative birds?" Zale echoed.

"You'll see when we get there," Sagitta continued, narrowing her eyes, "We also spotted some sort of large muttation on that island." She jerked her head in the direction Al and Buck had gone. "So we should keep away, if we can."

Ian couldn't help but feel pleased. "Well, while you were safely scoping out the arena," He interrupted, ignoring an unfriendly look from Sagitta, "I went ahead and explored the pirate ship."

Jade's eyes widened. "You didn't."

"I did."

"What on earth were you thinking?"

Ian reveled in her astonishment. "I think you'll be happy to know I found the Cornucopia's missing supplies." He went on, "They're hidden in treasure chests. But there's a wire trap around that area, so if you want to get to them, you'll have to follow my movements."

There was a small silence that followed his words. Ian could tell they were impressed with him. Meredith even offered up a quiet, "Well done, Ian."

"I try." He said, shrugging a shoulder. "…Shall we?"

He led the others back towards the beached ship and to the hole Xander had first entered. Everyone paused at the entrance, looking nervous. But Ian slipped inside without batting an eyelash and they had no choice but to follow. Once inside, he motioned towards the tripwire, making sure everyone saw it before proceeding.

Zale stepped over it first, observing the treasure chests almost suspiciously. "Why are some of them already open?" He questioned Ian.

Ian blinked. "I don't know. I didn't take anything, if that's what you're implying. I waited for all of you to come back to gather it. Maybe those are just for decoration."

Zale narrowed his eyes. "Why are you lying?"

Ian straightened up, trying to look unabashed. "Are you this suspicious to everyone you meet?" He accused, sounding insulted, "Shouldn't you be praising me for finding us food?"

Zale looked as if he wanted to argue. Luckily, Meredith kneeled down next to him and distracted him with a medical kit. She began to clean up and dress his wound while Jade and Sagitta picked through the supplies.

"What should we do with this dynamite?" Jade asked, looking nervously at the chest full of explosives.

"Leave it." Sagitta said simply, "No one else knows about this tripwire, so it'll be safe here. Won't it?" She turned a critical eye towards Ian and waited for his response.

He suddenly felt a deep amount of loathing towards his suspicious teammates. He felt he deserved much more praise for his actions. Avoiding their eyes, he lied smoothly. "That's right. It'll be safe here."

"I suppose we could use it as a weapon." Jade mused. She stuck out a hand, as if to snatch up a stick, but it froze in place, hovering over the chest. She couldn't seem to bring herself to touch the dangerous material. Meredith cautioned her that it might be unwise to handle such an unpredictable weapon. And so, they let that idea drop and focused on gathering the important items such as food and water.

Ian once again stood back and allowed everyone else to do the work. Quickly becoming bored, he decided to follow Jade out to the boat. He watched idly as she loaded the backpacks into the canoe—they had left the empty chests behind in order to lure tributes towards the trap that had been set.

Jade noticed Ian's lack of participation immediately. But instead of becoming annoyed, she smirked and said in a taunting voice, "It's nice to see you acting so brave. When Xander blew up, you screamed like a girl."

"I did not." Ian said, folding his arms.

"Yes you did." Sagitta said in a monotone voice. She proceeded to pull a face and wail, "Jaaade!" in a rather impressive imitation of Ian's voice. Then her features settled back into their usual scowl.

Jade broke out into a fit of laughter. "You looked like you were going to wet yourself!" She giggled, pressing a hand to her mouth.

"You're imagining things," Ian scowled.

"Are you two done flirting?" Zale said, walking out of the boat with Meredith by his side. White bandages had been placed over his injury.

"We shouldn't be wasting time like this." Meredith agreed.

"Chill out," Jade replied, trying to comb out her hair, which had become tangled by the sea breeze, "It's getting late, anyways, and we accomplished a lot today!"

Meredith glowered at Jade wordlessly. Her blue eyes resembled chips of ice. Jade just stared back, wondering what could have brought on such a furious glare. She looked to Ian in wonderment, but he avoided her gaze.

"You know what I just realized?" He mused, staring at the canoe, "Because Xander died, we can all fit in the canoe! How amusing…" He reached up and ruffled his hair, looking pleased with himself for noticing such a minor detail.

Sagitta gave a small huff that didn't seem to resemble laughter or annoyance. No one else responded. Jade still couldn't grasp why Meredith had looked at her like that. That wasn't the kind of look one teammate gave to another. But as she climbed into the canoe and shifted the vest on top of her wetsuit to make herself comfortable, it hit her: the knives.

She had taken Meredith's choice of weapon without a second thought.

* * *

After the Careers had moved off, Claire and Flick picked their way down the side of the cliff. It was a long way to the bottom—but both quickly found that as long as they didn't look down, it wasn't too difficult a feat.

Flick tired quickly. Claire tried to urge him along, but his muscles began to burn. Clinging to the side of the cliff became tougher and tougher. He tried focusing on a new composition—but the sound of the waves pounding the rocky shores drowned out all thought. The noise only grew louder and louder as he descended. His arms trembled for a hold on the cliff wall. He envisioned himself falling to his doom and being impaled on the rocks below…

"Flick!" Claire's voice sounded faint. The low howl of the wind racing along the surface of the ocean carried her voice away from him. He strained to make out what she was saying. "What are you doing? Step down—we made it!"

Her hand tugged at his arm. With a yelp, Flick lost his hold on the rocks and fell…one whole foot. Wide-eyed, he found himself standing on a low outcropping at the bottom of the island. The ocean was at their feet, spraying them with mist with each wave that crashed nearby. Flick shook his head to relieve himself of the moisture that had gathered there. The movement sent his hair springing up to stand in clumps. He looked at Claire for some sort of explanation of what to do next.

She was looking fairly determined. "Do you need a break?" She asked.

"Um…maybe." Flick said faintly. He sunk down onto the rocks, his body still shaking slightly. He rubbed his muscles (or lack thereof) to try and relieve the soreness. "Did the Careers go away?"

Claire let her gaze drift upwards. "I think so. But we should keep going. That island seems closest, so we'll go there next." She pointed to an island with multiple sandy peninsulas reaching towards them. A thick, dark jungle rose up a little ways in from the beach. It seemed like a safe place to go with plenty of cover.

Claire asked Flick if he could swim. He nodded. "Well enough."

"Then let's go."

Claire lowered herself into the water first, followed by Flick. He hesitated at the water's edge, but a sharp word from his partner got him moving. As soon as he was swimming again, a good distance from the safety of land, he flashbacked to Viola's grisly death. The churning water, the cloud of red…the waves around him seemed to seethe with hidden enemies. The same monsters that dragged Viola into their depths.

Flick began to panic. He let out a choked cry, flailing his arms and legs uncontrollably. Claire, who had gone on ahead, doubled back.

"Flick!" She called over the sound of the ocean, "Calm down! I know it's scary—"

Wordless with terror, Flick lunged at Claire and tried to climb onto her. She let out a small scream, but her head was instantly submerged as Flick clung to her. She tried to fight back and resurface, but Flick's limbs were battering at her mercilessly.

For a moment, panic caused her mind to go blank. She was fully convinced this was the way she was going to die. And surely Flick would drown without her aid. She couldn't let that happen.

So she cleared her mind and remembered a time her sister had done the same thing. They had been swimming in a lake when Demi was seized by cramps. She freaked out and tried to climb up on Claire then. It was the exact same situation; luckily, Claire's father had been there to fish both of them out. Then he gave her some good advice if that would ever happen again.

Holding her breath, Claire kicked out with her legs and dove down. Flick let go instantly as she swam deep under the water. She felt as if her lungs would burst at any moment. But she forced herself to swim away from Flick before resurfacing.

Once she did, she took a moment to catch her breath. Flick turned towards her, wild-eyed. For a moment, he seemed as if he would throw himself at her again, but she said in a powerful voice, "Flick, calm down! I can help you. Just _stay calm_."

Flick was gasping for air, inhaling the seawater. He coughed uncontrollably, and this only served to frighten him further. Claire could see he was losing strength. Fast.

"Don't think about it!" She cried out desperately, willing Flick to fight for his life, "Think about home, Flick! Think about your family!"

Flick listened to Claire's words. Immediately, he thought of Astron. He could see her shaking her head, scoffing, "Honestly, you can't even handle a little bit of water? Come on, Flick! You can do it!"

Flick forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, no matter how badly he wanted to start hyperventilating. Claire approached him, treading water.

"Good job. Good job, Flick," She panted, water dripping into her eyes. She brushed it aside and fixed her gaze on him. "Now I want you to float on your back with me, okay? Just spread your arms out like this and straighten your back…"

"But I'll sink!" Flick protested.

"No you won't," Claire said, her voice ragged, "Just trust me."

Flick did as she said, stiffening his spine and throwing out his arms. The water rose up, consuming his ears. He almost started panicking again, but to his surprise, it didn't envelop the rest of his face. He lay there for a long minute, trying to relax his body and breathe through his nose. He sucked the air in hungrily for a minute; then his breaths began to slow.

"There you go…" Claire sighed, floating next to Flick, "Let's just float here for a while. It's easier than treading."

Flick closed his eyes. For a long time they lay in the water, relaxing. Flick was able to think clearly once more, focusing on coming up with a good theme song for the Hunger Games in his head. After a little while, Claire told him it was time to try again.

This time, he managed to keep calm all the way to the jungle island. He couldn't have been more relieved when he felt solid ground beneath his feet—or as solid as sand could get. They had made it to one of the peninsulas that branched out from the island.

"Hurry, we're out in the open!" Claire said urgently, forcing Flick to his feet and taking off with him towards the tree cover. Only once they were submerged in the foliage did she let him rest.

"So…are we staying here?" Flick wondered. Now that he thought about it, they didn't have any food or water. And after downing all of that saltwater, he was feeling terribly thirsty.

"I don't know. We could move on to the next island in line."

"Line?" Flick said blankly.

"I mean in the circle. The islands kind of spiral out from that middle one." Claire explained, "Anyways, the next one over is the volcanic island. It might be unsafe, but I doubt it'll explode on the first day. Still, it might be our safest bet if we're looking to avoid other tributes."

Flick spaced out halfway through Claire's monologue. He could hear something big moving through the jungle. It was coming right for them.

"Flick? Hey! Are you even listening to me?!" Claire demanded in a shrill voice that caused Flick to wince.

He opened his mouth to tell her to be quiet, but a new voice interrupted him.

"_Claire?!_"

A tanned boy with shaggy brown hair came stumbling out of the leafy foliage. His brown eyes went wide at the sight of his district partner.

"Buck!" Claire practically shrieked, springing towards him, "You're okay!"

Buck gave a loud whoop and Flick cringed, wishing they would stop making so much racket. But he remained quiet as they reunited, rejoicing that both had made it out of the Bloodbath alive. Claire was practically crying with relief—Flick had never even thought they were that close. Maybe the Games were making them lose their minds.

"When I heard the cannons, I thought for sure…!" Claire choked out, clutching at Buck's hands in her own.

He was positively beaming. "Are you kiddin', who do you think yer dealin' with? If anything, I was worried 'bout you!"

"But I'm okay!" Claire said beginning to laugh. Suddenly, she ripped her hands out of Buck's and reached for his hair. "By the way, you look terrible. Fix yourself up for sponsors."

Buck's smile faded instantly. "…Pardon?"

"Ugh! What happened to your shoes? You look so uncivilized!" Claire nagged, still trying to brush at his hair.

Buck pulled away, looking irritated. "Forgot how annoying you were." He muttered, quickly retreating back the way he had come.

"Wait! Are you leaving?" Claire said, sounding stunned.

"What tipped you off, genius?" Buck said, casting a glance back at his district partner. His eyes fell on Flick. Without a word, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a water bottle.

"Where did you get that?" Claire said sharply.

Buck ignored her and tossed the water to Flick. Flick scrambled to catch it, but it smacked him right in the face and fell to the ground. Sheepishly, he bent over to retrieve it.

"The ship by the Cornucopia," Buck told them, "There's a few treasure chests with supplies. But be careful—there's a tripwire in the area. Locate it before you go walkin' in there, all right?"

"Fine," Claire said, disappointed that he would not be joining them. "Good luck, Buck."

He tipped an imaginary cowboy hat. "Good luck yerself, Pipsqueak."

Claire let out a small groan as Buck turned and ran back the way he had come. She wished he had stuck around longer to chat. She would have liked to know everything he had been through in the hours they had spent in the arena so far.

"Claire?" Flick said, sipping from the water bottle little by little, "Would you like a drink?"

"You drink up first. I'll have what's left." Claire said, a distant look in her eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Flick asked curiously.

"I'm thinking…we should leave this island," She said slowly, "Go from place to place and make our way back to where the Cornucopia is. We have to get to the ship before the other tributes clear it out."

Flick nodded loyally. "Can we take a break first?"

"Of course!" Claire said, lifting her chin, "But make it quick. It's almost sunset—I want to make it to the next island before it gets dark."

* * *

The day had crawled by at a painstakingly slow rate. Perhaps it was the pain in his foot or just the fact that he had been wandering this island for hours. Either way, Barrett decided enough was enough. He hadn't seen that rotten corpse for more than an hour—perhaps he had lost it. If he had, then it was finally time to focus on finding food and water.

He recalled passing by a lake he was too afraid to approach. Its edges had been bountiful with fruit trees. So Barrett made his way in the direction he had seen it. Alpha and Omega chattered all the while.

"Where do you think you're going?" Alpha asked quizzically.

"I'm hungry," Barrett replied, limping heavily. Each time he set his injured foot down, a burning pain consumed it. He was practically hopping along the ground to avoid that dreadful feeling.

"But you have to escape…" Omega said faintly.

Barrett's stomach growled loudly. "I've been escaping for the entire day!" He said through gritted teeth, "If that thing shows up, then I'll…I'll…" His grip tightened on his bloodstained hatchet. "No more running away."

But to his relief, Barrett found the crystal lake without too much difficulty. He hobbled towards it and practically collapsed at the edge, leaning into the water and slurping it up like a dog. Alpha and Omega hopped down and helped themselves as well. But as soon as Barrett sat up, something covered his eyes.

He screamed.

"What is it?!" Alpha demanded.

"THE HANDS! THE HANDS!" Barrett shrieked shrilly, struggling to regain his sight. But they clung to his head firmly, digging sharp fingernails into his skull. Never had they appeared so abruptly. And never had they succeeded in actually covering his eyes.

Fraught with panic, Barrett pitched forward and flung his entire body into the lake. Alpha and Omega's muffled screams reached his ears. Barrett opened his eyes underwater. It hurt to do so, but at least he could see again.

He resurfaced—and came face to face with the corpse. It was directly in front of him, standing where he had been squatting a second ago. It looked down on him with its two empty eye sockets that yawned open like black holes. Scraps of skin still clung to its emancipated frame. A terrible stench emanated from it as well, making Barrett's eyes water.

All he could do was stare at it, paralyzed by fear. With jerky movements, its jaw unhinged as if it wanted to speak. But all that came out was awful, incoherent garbling. Barrett caught sight of his discarded hatchet by its feet. With a determined yell, he splashed out of the water and snatched it up.

The corpse reached towards him with its spindly fingers. But he was already off and running. His pursuer let out a terrible moan, causing Barrett to glance over his shoulder, but the horrid thing had already vanished.

Tired of running, Barrett ran to the nearest tree and scaled it within seconds. Then he huddled on the safety of a sturdy branch, hidden by leaves and ripe orange fruits. His eyes darted all around; making sure no one had followed him. Then he realized his surroundings were oddly silent.

"Alpha? Omega?" He called cautiously.

"We're here." Alpha said, appearing on his shoulder.

Barrett relaxed immediately.

"We're always here." Omega confirmed.

Finally at peace, Barrett allowed himself to relax. At least his thirst had been quenched. Perhaps he could get in a quick meal before another terrifying vision came after him. The tangy scent of mango reached his nose, causing his mouth to water. Without wasting a moment, he plucked one off the nearest branch and took a ravenous bite. Sweet juices flooded his mouth. It was one of the best things he had ever tasted. He took another bite. And another. Within seconds, he had scarfed down the entire mango.

He settled back again the trunk of the tree, feeling content. But a moment later, his stomach let out a low whine. It felt emptier than ever. So he climbed a little bit higher to grab another mango and began eating that one too.

Then the howling began.

"What's that?" Alpha wondered.

Barrett wasn't worried. His attention was fixed on his second helping of mango. Once he had downed it, he licked the juice off his fingertips. But his stomach still felt like a shriveled leaf. In fact, he was so starved it was beginning to hurt. He needed more.

"Barrett, something's coming." Omega said urgently, but Barrett had already acquired his third mango.

The howling was growing louder. But Barrett needed more mangoes. They were so good…he couldn't get enough of them. Even Capitol food couldn't compare. But no matter what he did, he just felt hungrier and hungrier…

"BARRETT!" Alpha and Omega screamed at the same time.

At that moment, something came crashing out of the undergrowth and into the lake clearing. Barrett was so shocked that he dropped his mango. It hit the ground with a thud and rolled towards the new arrival, instantly giving away his location. The muttation looked Barrett directly in the eye and bared its teeth: all three sets of them.

The beast was a three-headed dog with sleek black fur and muscles that rippled like liquid steel under its pelt. But this dog had to be as large as a bear—if not larger.

Each head was placed on a long, separate neck that constantly seemed to be moving like some sort of worm. Each head had its own features as well. The center head had pointed ears and a long snout. Another had large eyes and floppy ears while the last had cocked ears and a squashed face. Around each dog's neck was a little red collar with a flashing gold tag that caught the sun's light.

Barrett just observed the beast calmly. All three heads curled their lips and growled in response. Barrett let out a laugh. If this was a hallucination, then it was the strangest one he had seen in a long time.

"This isn't a hallucination, Barrett," Alpha said, as if he had read his mind, "It's as real as you and me."

Barrett blinked. "But you're not real. You go away when I take my medicine."

"Exactly." Alpha confirmed, leaving Barrett more confused than ever.

"If you really want to know if it's real," Omega said in a teasing voice, his monocle gleaming mischievously, "Why don't you find out?"

The three-headed dog snarled a challenge and paced around the base of the tree, leering up at Barrett. He shifted on his branch and carefully dangled his feet down. The muttation instantly sprang for him, snapping its jaws. But it just fell short of nabbing him and crashed back to the ground with a frustrated yowl.

Refusing to give up, the hound placed both of its front paws on the tree and scrabbled at it, leaving long gouges in the bark as it strained to reach Barrett. The center head was inches away from sinking its teeth into his flesh. The boy could feel its hot breath tickling the toes of his injured foot.

He pulled it away. "I can't tell if it's real or not." Barrett said, observing the bottom of his foot. The red welts still made him nervous. He pressed his fingers into them, willing them to disappear like one of his hallucinations after taking medication.

"Jump." Omega demanded suddenly.

Barrett's stomach growled, distracting him. He needed to eat more food. With his hatchet in hand, he rose to his feet and prepared to climb higher.

"Jump, Barrett." Alpha hissed.

Barrett paused. "You're agreeing with him?" He asked, astounded. That was the second time this week.

"Barrett, don't you want to find out what happened to your mother?" Alpha said seriously, "Well, now's your chance."

"I know what happened to my mother." Barrett said blankly, going numb with grief, "I killed her…or she killed herself. Either way, it was my fault."

"Well, if you really want to know, you can ask her." Omega said in a voice brimming with enthusiasm, "You can see Echo again too. All you have to do is jump."

Barrett's eyes welled up. He looked down into the dark eyes of the muttation below him. It snarled at him in response. But one head—the floppy-eared head—let out a desperate whine. Its eyes pleaded for him to come play with it.

It reminded him of Echo, crying for him. She needed him. Mom, too.

"Do I really have to do this?" Barrett asked, "Will it save the world from burning? Just like sacrificing the squirrels and helping Vera escape the arena?"

Alpha and Omega had gone quiet. Barrett looked to each of his shoulders to find that they had vanished.

"Hey!" He cried out, "Don't leave me!"

There was a flash of white and he saw his two friends tumbling through the air, down towards the muttation. The little puffballs disappeared in a snap of jaws. Barrett let out a painful scream as his remaining friends were torn apart in front of his eyes. They were nothing but wisps of air now.

"WAIT FOR ME!" Barrett shrieked, leaping from the branch, "WAIT FOR ME, ECHO! ALPHA, OMEGA—"

Before he even hit the ground, the three-headed dog sprang to meet him, snatching him out of thin air. The separate heads immediately locked their jaws into his flesh and began jerking their necks. Growls ripped their way out of their throats as each head tried to rip their prize away from the other. The sound of tearing skin filled the air.

The center head clamped its teeth right onto Barrett's head and twisted it, snapping his neck with one swift movement. His head parted company from his body and rolled away as the hound continued to separate his limbs from his torso. Flecks of blood flew through the air and coated their muzzles. They paid no attention to the discarded parts, only concerned with shredding the body into as many tiny pieces as possible.

They didn't pay any mind to Barrett's head. His hair was matted with blood, but his eyes were closed in contentment and a soft smile lit up his pale features. He had finally found his peace.

* * *

"I swear I just heard someone screaming." Wiley said, staring off through the river cane, "And howling. Something was howling too. You don't think it could have been that thing from...?"

The sound of a cannon suddenly rang out.

"Oh God, someone just died! And right on this island, too! _I'm so bloody terrified!_" Wiley wailed. His head sunk down to rest between his shaking knees. He looked awfully pathetic. No shame, whatsoever.

Though Spark was scared on the inside, she tried to appear strong and dignified. "Shush." She murmured, trying to keep her voice under control, "We're safe here."

"Oh yeah, look at us, we've got loads of plants to hide in!" Wiley said, throwing up his arms, "Well, pardon me if I sound a tad rude, but I dunno if plants are gonna do much to stand in the way of a rampaging beast!"

"I set up some snares." Thimble pointed out.

"Oh yeah. That'll save us." Wiley said, attempting to sound sarcastic and failing. He sounded more like he was going to cry at any moment. He let out a shaky sigh and wiped at his eyes. "Erm…can I have another banana?"

"I already told you!" Spark said, shooting Wiley a disapproving look, "This food is definitely rigged with something. But even so, we need to ration it."

Wiley raised his right hand in an oath. "I _swear _this isn't my hippopotamus acting up or anything, I really am hungry this time. I haven't eaten for a good long while."

"_Hypothalamus_." Spark corrected, rolling her eyes, "You know, you're older than me, you should have learned this stuff. Different parts of the brain do different jobs. The hypothalamus is what tells us we're hungry, not our stomach. There's something in this food that messes with our brains. We feel hungry, but we're actually full. Don't make me explain it again!"

"Fine!" Wiley sighed, giving in.

The empty feeling in Spark's stomach was making her more irritable than usual. Wiley wasn't the only one suffering through this strange phenomenon. But she allowed herself to feel a small amount of satisfaction for having figured out one of the arena's mysteries.

"If you're done with today's science lecture," Thimble spoke up, glancing at the canopy above them, "I think it's almost time for them to broadcast The Fallen. Can we move somewhere we can actually see it?"

"Sure, sure…" Spark said, leading everyone out from under the banyan tree, "I haven't been counting the cannons anyways."

As they moved out towards the beach to get a clear view of the sky, Wiley's breath caught in his throat. "Wow!" He murmured, staring in awe, "I've never seen such a beautiful sunset! It's really grand, isn't it?" A goofy smile stretched across his face. He seemed way to happy about such a short-lived sight. The two girls didn't share in his revelation.

"Everything in this arena is beautiful," Thimble commented dryly, "That's what makes it so ironic."

Quietly, the three of them sat together in the sand, watching the sun set over the water. The ocean seemed to glimmer with new life as light danced on its surface. But as soon as that last shred of light disappeared, the arena grew ominously dark.

The anthem started up immediately, blaring from all corners of the islands. The Capitol's crest appeared like a spotlight in the sky. It seemed to hover directly over the tree on the tall island, but the tributes could still see each face as they appeared.

The first one to show up was Xander's enthusiastic smile.

"A Career!" Spark gasped, sounding incredibly happy.

Thimble and Wiley exchanged a shy grin too. Maybe they were being heartless, but a dead Career was always a good sign for the rest of them.

Xander disappeared and was replaced by a glum-looking Isaac. His eyes were dim with hopelessness.

Wiley let out a loud sigh, as if he had been holding his breath. "Thought _my _picture was gonna show up there for a second." He said casually.

Thimble gave him a look. "Why would yours show up when you're still alive?"

"You never know." Wiley said in all seriousness, returning his attention to the sky.

Pictures continued to flash by: Vera, Piston, and even little Viola…

"There's the boy we ran into!" Spark whispered when Barrett appeared. A chill ran up her spine. He had been alive less than an hour ago. Now he was nothing more than a fading image in the sky.

Athena came next. Everyone was shocked to see Rowan as well, though Thimble was actually glad to see that Flick had made it. The pictures just kept coming and coming, showing no signs of stopping. Despite the fact that it meant they had better odds of surviving, the alliance of three silently willed the dead tributes to cease appearing.

After what seemed to be forever, the anthem faded away. Rina's picture hung there for a moment more, then disappeared along with it. The night turned dark. Crickets began chirping in a soothing manner.

For a long while, Spark, Wiley, and Thimble sat in silence. Spark was counting the numbers repeatedly in her head, each tribute's picture burned into her brain. She muttered softly under her breath as she did so. The other two looked at her, waiting for her to say something. Then she spoke up.

"_Five _districts." Spark said in a hushed voice, "Five districts…already out of the running."

"H-How many tributes…?" Wiley stammered, eyes wide with fear.

"Twelve." Spark replied faintly, "Twelve. Do you know what that means? …It means half of us are already dead. And we haven't even been here for a full twenty-four hours."

**We finally have an official list of the dead. Sorry it was so unclear back during the Bloodbath, but here they are…**

**RIP Xander, Isaac, Vera, Piston, Viola, Barrett, Athena, Rowan, Aluma, Quinoa, Seyuto, and Rina. Yes. I've already killed off half the tributes and it's only the first day. Here comes one long list of "obituaries."**

**Xander- Sorry! I wanted to kill a Career in the Bloodbath this year and Xander stepped into my line of fire. A few of you probably didn't see it coming, which is what I was going for. But while he lived, he really was sweet. I think his was a personality you don't often see pop up in the Career pack, which is nice. Thanks for being a refreshing change, Xander, and sorry you had to go so early, but I made my decision. And isn't it sadder that the nicest Career had to die first? **

**Isaac- Another tribute I think veered away from the usual formula, despite coming from such a hard background many other tributes seem to have. His sad moment with Gregory made him stand out as well as his realistic feelings on life. A lot of different factors went into helping me decide the Bloodbath victims and Isaac's strategy might have hindered him in this case. I'm sure Gregory would regret the last time he saw him for the rest of his life.**

**Vera- She was pretty cool and I know a few of you liked her, but popularity doesn't save people. I wanted this to be unpredictable…though I suppose a few of you may have guessed at it back when she joined up with Barrett. But it was just so perfect. The psychiatrist killed by her patient. Don't worry, Vera, I'm sure there are plenty of people for you to diagnose in the afterlife.**

**Piston- At first, people expected him to make it far, but then he acquired the target on his back. Still, I'm hoping you didn't count on his entire alliance going down. You already know I thrive on trying to surprise my readers. But he was a cool guy; it's nice to see such a tough yet caring boy. He and Viola shared some really sweet moments. I think Piston would rest easy knowing that one day the rebellion will succeed and the Capitol will finally fall. **

**Viola- Viola was a total cutie. She may have acted a bit young for her age sometimes, much like Jarek, but I enjoy writing those types. She was the epitome of innocence with an amusing obsession with nature. It was also good to see she was proficient with a slingshot. I'm sorry her death was so gruesome and ambiguous, but you've probably already realized that there are worse ones to come. Like this guy's… **

**Barrett- He was definitely my favorite out of this rather large batch. Writing him and his hallucinations was like a breath of fresh air amongst a bunch of repetitive events you've seen in my stories, especially during the pre-Games stuff. I always looked forward to it. I know he went early, but I thought it was suitable and I liked his rather dramatic exit. I really will miss writing you, Barrett. You are awesome. Go be with Echo now.**

**Athena- She was another super nice tribute, though there always seem to be a handful I can't seem to develop well and she was probably among those few. I'm really sorry how that always seems to happen. I blame the number of characters. Despite all that, I think she had some good moments. Hopefully her sister will manage to get by without her.**

**Rowan- No joke, this guy was pretty hardcore. It's good to have a few tributes that come into the Games prepared. And you gotta admit he had some cool moments even though his reign was short-lived. Like the part where you all wanted to see him ally with Buck and I basically added in a scene with them to troll you guys into thinking it would happen. Oh and congratulations to Rowan for being the 1000****th**** tribute to die in the Hunger Games! How special!**

**Aluma- I think Aluma was very realistic; a lot of her qualities can be attributed to people in real life because we all have personality flaws. She hated attention being drawn to her eye, but at the same time she craved it because it made her different. That's probably why a lot of people didn't like her, but I think she was cool. A shame she had to suffer such a slow death at the hands of her own district partner. But hers was still one of the saddest Bloodbath demises.**

**Quinoa- Quiet little Quinoa. I probably overemphasized her shyness, but I often overplay certain attributes to try and make the characters stand out more, as you've seen in the past. Anyways, she was sweet yet rebellious, it was fun to see her finally speak her mind to the Capitol. I like her nameless duck too. We'll miss you, you brave girl. Way to stick up for your beliefs.**

**Seyuto- Haha, I had a lot of fun writing this little troll! He garnered a lot of comic relief, which no story can be without (course it got old after a bit, but his Reaping was one of my favorites). And it seems like everyone either loved or hated him, which is a good thing. Characters that get such extreme reactions from people are always fun. YOLO Seyuto. I'll miss you if no one else will. SWAAAG! **

**Rina- She was...a good...dancer. I'm sorry I wrote her so terribly that it drove the creator to unfollow the story. :( Oh well, you can't please everyone...  
**

**Anyways, the playing field has been halved. 12 tributes are dead…12 remain. **


	25. Nighttime Encounters

**I got into my choice of major for school and I'm really happy so let's have an update, kay~ ^^**

**I was going to wait until the tributes figured out the theme of the arena to change the description, but what the heck, might as well bring in some new people. I hope it's suitable? Also, the fun part is if anyone had typed what was in the description at the beginning of the story ("a proud look, a lying tongue, etc.") into Google, you probably would've gotten to figure out the arena early. XD**

**Before we begin, let's recap where everyone is at the moment…**

**-The Careers are on the center island with the big tree (Pride)  
-Buck and his lack of shoes are on the jungle island (Envy)  
-Claire and Flick are resting on the volcanic island (Wrath)  
-Wiley, Spark, Thimble, and Al are on the forest island containing Cerberus (Gluttony)  
**

**Since I know at least one of you are going to say this, let me save you the trouble by saying it now. "This scene reminds me of Divergent!"**

"Twelve!" Jade exclaimed, giddy with excitement after watching The Fallen, "Twelve whole tributes! Do you know what that means? Only seven left to hunt down!" She couldn't help but wriggle her hips in a miniature victory dance.

Laughing, Ian stepped up to the edge of the cliff and shouted into the night, "Anybody else wanna mess with the champs?!"

His voice echoed back to him. The silence that followed confirmed no one was willing to mess with the champs. Ian grinned.

Suddenly, arms wrapped around him and pushed him towards the edge of the cliff. For a brief moment, his weight shifted forward and he was falling. He let out a cry of disbelief, but then his attacker immediately yanked him to safety.

"I just saved your life!" Jade shouted dramatically, dragging him back.

Ian tore away from her, looking flustered. He patted his hair back into place, trying to appear unfazed. "Don't do that." He said through gritted teeth. His heart was still pounding against his chest thanks to the near-death experience. Jade just laughed cruelly. Even the other three couldn't help but smile a bit. Today had been successful and District 1's energy was contagious.

After gathering all sorts of supplies, the Careers had left behind the empty Cornucopia and made their way to the top of the tall island. They made camp between the tree and the graveyard, on a nice plot of soft grass. After that, they surveyed the arena as a group.

There were a total of seven islands. The one they stood on now was at the center; from there, the islands seemed to spiral outwards.

The closest one was the jungle-covered island with the five peninsulas aimed towards the center island. From this height, it almost resembled a hand reaching towards them. The darkness of the thick jungle, which no doubt contained many mysteries, contributed to this hair-raising factor.

The next one over was obviously a volcanic island. It rose out of the ocean like a sloping tower, surrounded by rocky spires that almost seemed to form a protective gate around it. The very tip of the island emitted thin tendrils of smoke. There was very little cover on that island, aside from the cliffs and rock formations it contained.

Over from that was the island Meredith and Zale had ventured to; the one with the swampy marsh and large, rotting flowers…and of course, the strange nest of eggs they had failed to mention.

Directly south of the center island was the island that contained the Cornucopia. Most of it had already been explored and the only item of interest was the pirate ship. Still, they hadn't gone further than the hull of the ship. Steps led up a dank hallway near the area with the chests, but they had been too afraid to venture there.

A colony of fire coral divided the Cornucopia island from the largest island—the one with the forest. A few fruit trees stood on the shore, but Jade and Sagitta knew what they had seen. They didn't plan on going over there anytime soon.

The last island was the furthest out and most definitely the smallest. It merely contained a cabana and a palm tree. Meredith had pointed out that they were likely to find an idiotic tribute hiding out there at one point, but they would check there tomorrow.

For now, it was time to celebrate with a meal. With their newly acquired matches, the Careers got a fire going and set up a few torches as well. They had found exactly one large sleeping bag in a chest, so they settled for spreading it on the ground so everyone could enjoy its comfort. With the five of them, the food probably wouldn't last past the second day. But now was not the time to ponder tomorrow; the Careers were living in the now.

As they gathered around for dinner, Ian made chitchat by saying, "You know who looks good in a wetsuit? Me. Heck, _everyone _looks good in a wetsuit. This couldn't have been a better Games to volunteer for!"

"Only you didn't volunteer." Zale reminded him, sniffing at a Capitol roll and taking a tentative bite.

Ian just smirked and shook his head. "You know what I mean."

Jade stared into the fire, thinking about everything they had been through so far. She had really enjoyed spending the day with Ian. _Ugh, did I really just think that? _She thought, nose wrinkling in distaste, _He embarrassed me at the interviews! I mean…well, I guess Chardonnay is the one to blame for telling us both different things. Maybe it's good Ian said something. Now I know the truth. Char is gonna be in for a world of hurt when we get home! _She cast a glance at Ian, blushing as if she had accidentally said it aloud. _I mean…when I get home._

"Sagitta, why don't you come over here and eat with us?" Ian called, looking over his shoulder.

Sagitta had taken her meal of bread and dried beef, and quietly retreated to the edge of the cliff. She sat there with her feet bravely hanging over the side. "Why don't you come over here and jump off this cliff?" She muttered, without looking back.

Jade felt a tug of pity for her antisocial teammate. She climbed to her feet and walked over to talk to her. Ian called after her, "Shove her off while you're over there for me, will you?"

But Jade ignored him and sat next to Sagitta, dangling her legs over the cliff in the same manner. "What's up?" She asked.

"Just looking at the stars." Sagitta answered, staring up at the sky, "You can see them really well here. I'm actually kind of surprised."

Jade craned her neck and looked at the stars with her. The night sky was scattered with them. A half moon stood out among their ranks, casting a soft glow on the arena beneath.

"It might be fake," Jade pointed out, scanning the stars, "The Gamemakers can change anything they want, including the sky…but then again, it seems like all of the constellations are in the right place."

"You know about constellations?" Sagitta asked.

Jade looked over to see her light blue eyes were wide with appreciation. She wasn't smiling, but it was still perhaps the most pleasant expression Jade had ever witnessed her make.

"Yeah!" She said, "My brother and I would go stargazing all the time back home." She felt a bout of homesickness steal over her, but she instantly brushed it off. "What's your favorite constellation?"

Sagitta's lips turned up in a wry smile. "Take a guess."

"The Big Dipper?" Ian interrupted, appearing behind them suddenly. "Honestly, that's the only one I can name. Learning constellations seems like a good waste of time to me."

Sagitta immediately shut her mouth and turned away, glowering at the empty air.

"Oh come on, I didn't even _do _anything to you," Ian sighed, sitting down on the other side of Jade, "I mean, maybe I flirted with you once or twice, but why can't you take that as a compliment?"

"Lay off, Ian." Jade spoke up, "What do you want, anyway?"

"District 4 was creeping me out." Ian said, turning his nose up in distaste, "It's just impossible to make conversation with them. And they smell like fish."

"Probably because they've been swimming all day," Jade said reasonably, "This arena was practically made for them…" She trailed off, her expression darkening. As the weakest Careers, they didn't deserve to have the arena tilted in their favor. "…They'll need to be disposed of." Jade spoke aloud before she could stop herself.

Both Ian and Sagitta looked at her in surprise. "That was fast." Sagitta commented, suddenly looking alert.

Jade shook her head, immediately regretting her slip of the tongue. "Not right away!" She said quickly, "I mean, after the numbers have dwindled a bit."

"We're already down by half." Sagitta pointed out. Distrust swelled in her chest, making her suspicious of her ally's intentions. If she was already considering eliminating District 4, what was stopping them from taking her out as well?

"I know, I know!" Jade huffed in response, "But I'm not going to destroy the alliance so early in the Games. It's just that when push comes to shove, they'll have the upper hand. They could dispose of our canoe and then we'd be helpless in the water."

"I wouldn't," Ian said smugly, "I have a swimming pool at home. Perhaps I should have invited you over for a swim while we were dating?"

Jade seemed to falter for a moment, but then her features hardened dramatically. "Don't you dare start talking about that," Jade hissed, "We're allies now. Let's focus on the issues at hand."

As Ian and Jade began bickering, Sagitta glanced over her shoulder to see District 4 by the fire, whispering quietly to one another. They were definitely scheming something. And without her district partner here, the two forces would be expecting Sagitta to side with one of them.

_Well, I won't, _Sagitta thought bitterly, _Let them kill one another. I'm going to be the one to win in the end._

Zale suddenly caught Sagitta's eye. She looked away, but he had already seen her staring. He rose to his feet along with Meredith and began to approach the three of them. Sagitta realized with a pooling dread that they could all wind up trying to throw each other off the cliff. That would certainly be a dramatic finish to their little celebration. She hurriedly got up and moved closer to the tree, putting it between her and the edge of the cliff. Her abrupt retreat caused Jade and Ian to stand and turn around. Tension was mounting, fast.

Meredith faced Jade, her expression hard. "Jade," She told her in a serious voice, "I don't know if you realize this, but throwing knives are also my weapon of choice. As you can see, I've been towing around a spear all day."

"No, I did realize it." Jade told her, clutching at her vest protectively. _You were giving me enough dirty looks; I'd have to be blind not to figure it out. _She added inwardly.

"If you wouldn't mind, Jade," Meredith went on, "I'd like to have a few knives of my own."

"No." Jade said instantly, "I got to them first. They're mine."

"All right. I thought you might say that." Meredith cleared her throat, "Then I hereby challenge you to a contest that will determine who gets to keep the knives. Don't you agree that the tribute with more skill should wield them in order to take down a greater number of tributes?"

Jade let out a derisive laugh before she could stop herself. "Of course I agree! That's why I'm using them. I scored a 10 in training after all. What did you get? Oh yeah…only an 8."

A dangerous scowl settled over Meredith's features. "The training score doesn't matter."

"Um, yes." Jade shot back, unable to contain her catty side. "It does. But feel free to keep on telling yourself that if it makes you feel better."

"You're just saying that because you're scared I might beat you." Meredith said bluntly.

_Oh, no she didn't. _Jade thought, a competitive fire suddenly burning fiercely in her heart. She whipped out a throwing knife, hissing, "All right, fine! How do you want to do this?"

Zale smirked and took a step forward. "Target practice." He said simply, making it clear that he was in on this challenge from the beginning.

Meredith nodded. "Right. We carve a target on this tree—"

"No, no, no." Zale protested with a single shake of his head. He held a hand out to Ian. "He and I are the targets."

"What?!" All three girls said in unison.

Ian let out a humorless laugh. "Yes, _what_?"

"I stand in as the target for Meredith, Ian stands in for Jade." Zale explained patiently, "We stay absolutely still in front of the tree. The point is to see how close you can come to hitting us without actually touching us. Whoever gets their knife the closest wins. It'll make things interesting…besides, neither of us would kill our district partners."

"I beg to differ!" Ian spoke up, "In case you didn't already know, Jade is my ex girlfriend and probably _dying _to stick a knife into me."

Jade rounded on him, her eyes wide with hurt. "You really think that?" She asked in a soft voice.

Ian searched for words to defend himself, but couldn't find any.

"I wouldn't kill my own district partner!" Jade said, her voice rising.

While Ian tried to calm his distraught ally and take back what he said, Meredith pulled Zale aside. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She whispered, her brow creased with worry.

"Mere," Zale told her, placing his hands on her shoulders, "Look at those two. They obviously still like each other. If Ian is the target, Jade will be too afraid of hitting him. It'll throw off her game, even if she _is _better than you."

"She's not better than me." Meredith mumbled, "And stop calling me Mere."

"Either way, those knives are as good as yours." Zale said matter-of-factly, pulling back.

"…You could have at least told me this beforehand." Meredith growled, looking annoyed, "When you said you were gonna help me get them back, I didn't expect _this _to be your plan."

Zale gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Don't hold back."

"Fine," Meredith said, becoming all business, "But don't blame me if I nick you."

"You won't." Zale said with such certainty that Meredith almost believed him. She never would have admitted it, but she doubted her skills in comparison to Jade's. No matter how much she told herself scores didn't matter, Jade's 10 was still impressive. She only hoped Zale's strategy would work.

Luckily, it seemed Ian's words had made Jade determined to go through with this. She even volunteered to go first. Begrudgingly, Ian took his place in front of the thick trunk of the tree. A nervous smile quivered on his lips.

"Please don't kill me." He said, trying to laugh the ordeal off, "Or mess up my hair."

"Stand here." Zale said, pointing to a spot in the grass that was a good distance away from the tree. Jade took her place without a word.

"That's too far!" Ian protested, but everyone ignored him.

"No one will blame you if you 'accidentally' stab him." Sagitta said hopefully.

Jade just took a deep breath, trying to focus. It really was a tough distance. For a moment, a tiny voice inside her asked, _what if you hit Ian? _She tried to ignore it. But Ian was looking at her with his wide blue eyes, silently begging her not to harm him…

She let a knife fly. It whizzed through the air and firmly lodged itself into the bark of the tree—a good two feet from Ian's head.

"A little more to the right and you could have kissed that knife goodbye." Zale remarked from behind her.

Jade gritted her teeth, trying to ignore that comment. "How many tries do I get?"

"Three." Meredith decided after a pause.

Instead of blindly chucking another one, Jade took a moment to consider which part to aim for. "Ian, spread your legs." She suggested, thinking she could aim for the space in between them and avoid hitting any vital body parts.

Ian didn't agree at all. "That's not happening." He said firmly, grimacing slightly at unwanted images that forced their way into his head.

"Fine." Jade scoffed. She brought back her arm, aiming carefully.

Ian cringed against the tree, bracing himself for the next hit. This time, the knife thudded into the tree closer to his head. But it was still pretty unimpressive, as far as Jade's skill level went. She could have nicked his ear if she wanted to. So why didn't she?

Jade felt like she was going to cry, but wound up for the last throw. She summoned all of her strength, aiming for a spot near Ian's hand. But as soon as she went to release the knife, Zale shouted unexpectedly, "Don't mess up!"

The knife sailed from her hand—and right off the edge of the cliff.

"That's not fair!" Jade protested, whirling around the glower at District 4.

Zale didn't seem sorry. "You had two good shots." He said with a half-hearted shrug.

Ian let out a shaky breath. "Does this mean we're done?" He moved away from the tree, looking extremely relieved.

Jade just stood there, at a loss for words. Her fists tightened and she bit back tears. She had felt so confident she could do this. Now—she wasn't so sure. She felt absolutely humiliated in front of everyone. She could see a flicker of pride in Meredith's eyes, as if she thought she had already won. Jade wanted to punch her teeth out.

"Your turn, Zale." Meredith told her district partner.

He took his place bravely, looking a great deal calmer than Ian had. Jade's knives were left in the tree so they could judge how close they had been. She handed over her remaining three knives to Meredith.

Meredith took a deep breath, running her hand over one of the blades. It had been two days since she last used one. Her eyes locked with Zale's—he appeared to be unfazed. Meredith found herself to be fairly calm as well. If Zale died, so what? He was going to, eventually. She told herself this as she readied herself for the first throw.

Ian let out a sharp yell as soon as she did so, trying to mimic Zale from earlier, but Meredith was focused. The dagger sunk into the tree right next to one of Jade's throws. Jade's was slightly closer. She heard the blonde sigh in relief.

"I'm just getting warmed up." Meredith declared, taking another knife in her hand. Without any hesitation, she threw it right at Zale's head, before Ian could try to distract her.

Zale flinched slightly as it hit a spot next to his ear, sticking firmly into the bark. With wide eyes, he turned his head to see the blade a mere inch from his head. A victorious smirk crossed his face.

"I think that about does it." He said, stepping away.

Jade was just standing there with her mouth slightly open. She was completely at a loss for words. _Meredith _with her score of 8, had beaten her. _Her. _"You…th…there's still one shot." She said faintly, as District 4 approached the tree and began to pry their hard-won knives out of it.

Meredith shot her an annoyed glance. "It doesn't matter. I've got the better end of the stick. Now take off the vest."

Jade could feel her face heating up. But a deal was a deal. Humiliated to no end, she reluctantly removed the vest of knives and handed it over to Meredith. The other Career took the vest in her hands and scanned it suspiciously.

"_All _of the knives, Jade. You wouldn't share and neither will I."

"I…lost another one earlier." Jade admitted, her cheeks turning redder and redder.

A long pause followed her words. Meredith gave a soft sigh and shook her head. "Six will have to do. I'll take care not to lose them."

Her words hit Jade like a punch to the gut. No longer able to face her comrades, Jade turned and began making her way down the hill.

"Where are you going?" Ian called after her.

"I'm…taking first guard for the night." Jade said, making an excuse off the top of her head. "I'm going somewhere I can keep an eye on the canoe docked down below."

"Then take this." Meredith's voice said.

Something whistled through the air towards her. Jade whipped around and caught the spear easily with her fast reflexes. She stared at it for a moment, hating the very sight of it. She looked to Meredith and thought she could see amusement in her eyes. But the rest of her face remained serene.

The District 4 Career ran her hands over her newly acquired vest, patting each knife into place. Her lips twitched slightly as if she were fighting a smile. "You're going to need it."

Without another word, Jade stormed down the hill, placing herself a good distance from the others. As she noisily made her way through the graveyard, a few Jabberjays awoke from their roosts on the gravestones, letting out frightened squawks. But as soon as Jade had gone on her way, they settled back down and tucked their heads under their wings.

"Good night, Jade!" Ian called after her.

"Good night, beautiful." One of the Jabberjays echoed sleepily.

Jade ignored them both. She was still fighting back tears as rage and regret consumed her. But she knew she couldn't cry in front of the whole of Panem. Her parents would already be so upset with her—she couldn't bear to add to their shame.

_Please don't let them take it out on Jasper, _She begged silently, taking a seat in the cool green grass. She could no longer hear the other Careers. Instead, she only heard the peaceful sound of waves lapping at the shore.

In the silence, she played out tonight's events over and over in her head. It had completely ruined her day. If only Ian hadn't been the target! She had been too concerned with hitting him. If they had used a _normal _target, she definitely could have defeated Meredith.

Jade realized with a jolt that this is what Zale had been going for when he suggested the idea. She wanted to scream. _Why did I agree to it?! It's all Ian's fault! If he hadn't made that remark…!_

But she realized with a sinking heart that she couldn't blame this on him. In the end, she had only failed herself. She bowed her head in defeat. There was no way they would let her challenge Meredith for the knives a second time. It was a waste of time, anyways. There were bigger fish to fry. The only way to get the knives back now…was if Meredith went before she did.

And she was crossing her fingers that it would be soon.

* * *

It had been dark for a couple hours now.

After taking the raft and sailing all the way to the jungle island, Buck had made camp under a leafy bush in a soft patch of dirt. He wouldn't deny that the jungle made him nervous. It was much thicker than the regular old forest he had abandoned Al in. The plants here were unfamiliar to him and constantly rustling as if something were hidden in them.

He took shelter in a concealed spot not too far from the beach. The night was chilly. Without a pillow or a blanket, falling asleep was difficult. Buck tried to tell himself that he had nothing to fear. The Gamemakers probably wouldn't be releasing muttations on the first night. Twelve deaths were enough to sustain the Capitol audience for another day or two.

At least…that's what he thought. Just when he had nearly faded out of consciousness, a chill crawled up Buck's spine. It was the feeling one gets when they're being watched. The sixth sense that most humans seem to harbor.

He immediately awoke, trying to remain still and figure out who was staring at him. But the jungle was full of shadows. He saw and heard nothing but the steady humming of strange insects that took to the nighttime with glee. A tree frog called for a mate in the distance.

_There's nothin' out there. _Buck told himself, but his heart was still hammering against his chest. He tried to shake off these ominous feelings. He told himself it was only instinct, a primal fear that told him to be wary of the night. But just as he went to close his eyes, he spotted it.

Two pinpoints of yellow light shone in the deep darkness. A pair of eyes—watching him. Buck squinted, trying to make out what sort of creature they belonged to. As the world came into better focus, he noticed these eyes were all over the place. Peering at him from within bushes and out from behind trees. Not one of them blinked. Their gazes were transfixed on him.

Buck braced himself for some sort of attack. But the yellow eyes just wavered in the air, unblinking.

"G…Get out of here!" Buck said, trying to sound intimidating. His voice faltered on the last word.

The eyes didn't move.

"Get the hell out of here!" Buck said bravely, rising to his feet. He took a threatening step towards them, and the eyes instantly vanished, retreating into the darkness.

Buck sunk back down into the grass, feeling paranoid. At least they weren't dangerous. At least they didn't _seem _dangerous. Then again, they were probably just waiting for him to fall asleep—then they would strike.

Something moved in the corner of his eye. A moment later, the eyes blinked back into existence. Buck desperately wished he had held onto that cutlass.

Trying to ignore his growing fear, he hurriedly packed his bags and gathered them up. Then he stood up and began to make his way out to the beach. Once he was on the move, the eyes disappeared once more. But he could feel them, following him.

When he reached the sandy shore, he immediately felt safer. The ocean stretched before him. He was on the other side of the island, safe from the prying eyes of the Careers—and hopefully, whatever had been watching him.

For a long time, he rested in the sand, casting anxious glances over his shoulder. But the eyes had not followed him. Finally, he sprawled out in the sand and closed his eyes. The ground was much softer out here and cushioned his body. And the wide, open spaces made him feel safe, reminding him of the landscape of District 10.

Beneath the stars, with thoughts of home running through his mind, Buck finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Flick couldn't sleep.

It must have been past midnight, but he still felt wide-awake. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn't get comfortable on the volcanic island's rocky surface with the smell of sulfur hanging in his nostrils. Maybe it was because he hadn't eaten anything all day and his stomach felt like it had shrunk to the size of a walnut. An aching belly and a parched throat did not mix well.

Then again, maybe it was because every time he closed his eyes, he could only see the faces of the dead tributes hanging over him.

Seeing Viola in the sky had upset him. He knew something terrible must have dragged her under the water in that red cloud of blood. Then Quinoa showed up and questions began to fill his head. _Could I have changed her fate if I had allied with her? But Astron said not to make allies. _He shifted uncomfortably, casting a glance at the sleeping form of Claire, _But…I still broke her rules._

The thought of abandoning Claire in the night crossed his mind. But she had been really nice to him. She helped him learn how to swim and float when he was tired. And when The Fallen had appeared in the sky, she told him in a calm voice, "If you see anyone you care about, Flick, take a moment to grieve for them. But as soon as their picture disappears, let them go. We still have our survival to think about."

Flick tried to remember what his friends told him as well. They're not really gone if their memories are preserved. Viola had said something similar—'the memories of our beloved lead us to fulfill our lives.' Something like that.

And yet, sleep escaped him. His stomach growled incessantly and his dry tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Flick closed his eyes and hummed a sad tune under his breath. The tempo matched Claire's slow breathing as she slept on. But not even music could comfort Flick on this lonely night.

Suddenly, movement in the distance caught his eye. He squinted to see a small shape floating low on the horizon. It drifted above the ocean, growing bigger and bigger. He knew what it was instantly. It was a sight seen in every Hunger Games: a parachute that carries a sponsor gift.

Thrilled, Flick rose and ran forward to receive it. It practically floated right into his arms. He hugged the package to him, grateful that someone out there had cared enough to sponsor him so early in the Games. He settled down to open it. Someone had stuck a tiny, decorative umbrella onto the parachute, as if it was a pina colada rather than a package. Flick tossed it aside and opened the container without hesitation.

Inside was a bundle of food: bread, fruit, cheese, spam, and two bottles of water. Flick snatched up an orange and pressed it to his nose, drinking in the scent. His family always had just enough money for food; he was used to eating in small portions, but he had never gone an entire day without it. Nonetheless, he forced himself to carry the picnic basket back to Claire before devouring everything in sight.

Once there, he knelt down and nudged his ally awake. Claire woke with a small snort.

"What is it?" She asked, looking at Flick in alarm.

He could see the light of the half-moon reflecting in her eyes. _That would make a good song title…possibly for a sonata…_

"Flick!" Claire said, snapping her fingers and looking peeved.

He jerked back into reality. "Oh…" He said in a dazed voice, "Sorry. Look: we've been sponsored food." He held up the parachute.

Claire's mood improved in an instant. "Wow, this is great!" She said in a hushed voice, reaching out and touching the container as if she couldn't quite believe it, "Thank goodness. I'm starving."

Feeling satisfied, Flick began to help himself.

"Wait!" Claire snapped, snatching his hand and holding it tightly, "Did you thank the sponsor yet?"

He just stared at her blankly.

She sighed and launched into one of her lectures. "Just because we're living out in the wild, doesn't mean we can't be civil. Even if you don't like the Capitol, you should appreciate that someone there is looking out for you and—"

"Okay, okay." Flick said, quickly cutting Claire off before he could die of starvation. "Thank you, whoever sent this!"

Claire looked pleased enough and let him begin eating. She also said a quick thank you and helped herself. "Don't eat too fast." She warned Flick as he ravenously wolfed down a piece of bread. "We should conserve this."

Flick eyed the contents of the parachute, munching on a juicy apple next. It was delectable alongside the cheese. "I think we'll have enough for tomorrow." He thought aloud.

"But only if we don't eat it all right now." Claire said, slapping Flick's hand away as he reached for another piece of cheese. "And don't speak with your mouth full."

Flick quietly obeyed. The rest of the meal passed in silence. When they had finished, Claire sealed up the container carefully.

"Claire?" Flick said, speaking quietly, "Do you think we should go?"

Claire shot him a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

"My sister told me I should travel at night." Flick explained, slowly rising to his feet. He planned to honor those wishes.

Claire let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her neck, muttering, "Can't we just sleep here for the rest of the night?"

"I don't mind going on my own." Flick said patiently.

Claire immediately softened. "No, no, I'll go with you." She said in a light voice, looking almost apologetic, "Your sister gave you good advice. But before we go, do something about that dirty face of yours."

Flick just sighed.

After washing their faces, they set off on a slow journey to the Cornucopia island. Claire held onto her shield and the food container while Flick focused on staying afloat. The night waters were calm and peaceful. A counterclockwise current ran around the islands. Claire and Flick immersed themselves in it, treading lightly and allowing the water to carry them.

The current brought them to the next island in line: the marsh. It cut straight through the island, meandering around mangrove trees. Flick was spacing out, actually enjoying the cool feel of the water on his already sunburnt skin. But then, something unexpectedly brushed his hand. It was smooth and slimy.

At the same time, Claire let out a stifled scream.

"Oh God!" She gasped, "Okay, we're fine. Everything's fine. Just stay calm, Flick. Okay?"

As Flick treaded to keep afloat, more dark shapes began to surround him. His heart was beating fast, though he tried to observe the strange creatures swimming around him calmly.

"What are they, Claire?" He asked.

She answered in a steady voice, "I don't know. Some kind of fish. But there's so many of them. And I think…they have _teeth_."

It's true; there were a lot of them. They looked like long, dark ribbons twirling through the crystal clear water, entwining themselves with one another. Here and there, Flick caught sight of a glint of teeth or a pair of beady eyes. But honestly, the fish seemed more interested in each other than them.

He and Claire passed safely through their ranks. Flick shivered each time a smooth body coiled around his. Both let out a grateful sigh when they left the strange fish behind them.

Eventually, they made it to the next island in one piece. As expected, the Cornucopia was deserted. From their position, they could see torches flickering up on the tall island. The Careers would not be hunting tonight. Nevertheless, they carefully made their way towards the ship, with only the pale moonlight to guide them. They walked among the dune grass to stay hidden.

The interior of the ship was nearly pitch black. Claire stopped Flick before he could venture too far in.

"It's too dangerous," She told him, "We wouldn't be able to see where the traps are."

Flick strained his eyes to make out the shapes of the chests in the dark. One was lying on its side, empty. "I think we're too late, anyways." He said in a disappointed tone.

Claire nodded sadly. "Let's move on. There's not enough cover here."

Thankfully, they found what they were looking for on the next island. Just like those that had come before them, they stumbled upon the still lake and the mass amounts of food it contained. But Claire was always cautious. She warned Flick that it was most likely poisoned; the Gamemakers wouldn't hand them food like this. So they moved on.

After that, they found a cave on the far side of the island that suited their needs. It seemed to extend deep into the earth, but neither of them felt like exploring it at this time of night. So they bedded down near the entrance of the cave. Flick could feel his eyelids beginning to droop. Claire had already passed out on the soft ground, fatigued from swimming all day with the shield on her back.

Soon, Flick found himself drifting off to sleep as well.

******Know what a Flick-Buck alliance would be called? …That's right. Blick.** Anyways, enjoy the non-cliffhanger and I'll see you all next week for a more exciting chapter!


	26. Divide and Conquer

**800 reviews! :D As always, many thanks to everyone that has gotten us to this milestone!  
**

**Here's a fun little poll now that everyone has figured out the theme of the arena. Which deadly sin would you say you are the guiltiest of? I've always been a fan of the sins ever since my section in marching band used them as our theme for section day. I bet you'd never guess which sin my amazing self was. ;)**

At 7am sharp, the Careers were rudely awoken by the hyped up Jabberjays from the nearby graveyard. All at once, they began crowing and quoting the tributes from the past two years. Sagitta could hear them even from her guard position further down the hill, closer to the boat.

Jade, who was still fairly tired from keeping guard earlier in the night, smashed her hands over her ears and let out a low moan. Ian and Zale woke up, casting grumpy glances at the crested birds. Meredith opened her eyes, feeling glum. She hadn't been able to fall asleep for hours last night and when she had, it had been a light one, constantly disturbed by the smallest noise. Just when it seemed she had finally fallen into a deep enough sleep to actually get some rest, the Jabberjays decided to make their voices heard.

Swearing, Zale clambered to his feet with his knives in hand. He took a few steps and then chucked one at the nearest Jabberjay. The unsuspecting bird was facing the other way, sitting idly on a gravestone as the knife plunged into its body.

It let out a shrill shriek and flopped forward onto the grass. The other Jabberjays immediately went silent, staring at Zale with solemn expressions. The injured jay was sprawled on the ground, twitching slightly. Its dark, blue-tinged feathers swiftly turned red.

"That did it," Zale said flatly, going to retrieve his knife.

As he approached, the Jabberjay turned its head to stare almost accusingly at Zale. Its crest was flattened against its head, making it appear smaller, almost frightened of the tribute. The poor creature clacked its beak senselessly.

"I used…my…nine…chucks."

The words were so distorted that it barely sounded like a sentence. But Zale recognized that voice immediately.

"Xander?" Ian mumbled from atop the sleeping bag, trying to fix his bedhead. "Is he alive after all?"

Jade was instantly awake, looking on with wide eyes. She jumped to her feet and rushed over to look down upon the dying bird.

"How…do you get…two District 1…Careers to…work…together…?" The Jabberjay asked weakly. A spasm ran through its body and it fell still. It would never reach the punch line.

Zale almost felt sorry for it. _Almost. _Without a word, he reached down and yanked the knife out of the corpse. "Do you think it's edible?" He wondered aloud, his mouth watering at the thought of meat.

"But…that's _Xander_." Jade protested, still looking like she had seen a ghost. Her eyes fell on the gravestone the Jabberjay had been resting on. Of course, it read _Xander Black._

"That's not Xander, it's some pathetic bird that recorded his voice." Zale snorted, but he left the fragile body alone and turned away.

"Wait, come look at this!" Jade called back, going to each grouping of graves. "There are names that weren't here yesterday! It's—it's the tributes who appeared in the sky!"

By this time, Ian had deemed his hair suitable for national television and joined Jade. Zale looked positively uninterested and settled back down next to Meredith. She slowly sat up, rubbing at the heavy circles under her eyes. The two of them watched District 1 explore the latest additions to the graveyard.

As Ian circled an outer cluster of gravestones, a single Jabberjay called out to him, breaking the silence. "Please! I have a family that needs me!"

Ian gritted his teeth, looking furiously at the Jabberjay that had spoken. He knew that voice all too well. It belonged to the boy he had killed yesterday. The flawless imitation of a human voice coming from a lower life form made a chill run up his spine, but he refused to let it affect him.

"I know what you're doing—you're trying to make me feel guilty." Ian said, narrowing his eyes, "Well, it won't work!"

"Oh, come on. You look great!" The Isaac Jabberjay exclaimed, cocking its head.

"Stop being sarcastic!" Ian snapped, self-consciously starting to fix his hair again. But the bangs refused to flip out in their normal fashion and it was grating on his nerves. "You wish you looked this good!" He pointedly told the Jabberjay.

"Ian, he can't understand you." Jade said, coming up from behind him, "You know that, right?"

"Right, right." Ian said, scowling slightly. But he still looked as if he wanted to continue this pointless argument.

Jade took his hand and led him off. He followed begrudgingly. "Come on!" She told him brightly, "It may be a little early, but we can still eat breakfast. Besides, you know what they say…"

A sly grin stretched across her pretty face.

"The early bird catches the tribute."

* * *

It was a relaxing morning for Wiley, Spark, and Thimble.

Clouds were beginning to move across the sky, shielding them from the harsh sun. The alliance of three made an early trip down to the lake to gather more food and water. It seemed like they had a pretty nice set-up going here: food, water, shelter…but who knew how long the Gamemakers would let them live in peace.

At the back of their minds, they all knew that they would have to face Careers or muttations at some point. And none of them had a single weapon; only the paddles they had stupidly left with the canoe. Spark kept saying that they would have to venture back there and make sure everything was still in place.

Luckily for them, there was a hatchet lying in a bush nearby. Only its blade was visible, but Wiley spotted it with his sharp eyes. He let out a pleasant sound and carefully put down his bundle of fruit.

"Look at this!" He called happily to Spark and Thimble. They both looked up from what they were doing. Humming cheerfully, Wiley reached into the bush and pulled out the hatchet.

A second later, it was on the ground and Wiley was having a panic attack.

"Oh my God. Oh my _GOD!_ NO! Nonononononono!"

A disembodied hand was clinging to the handle of the hatchet tightly; it was slick with blood. Wiley turned and scrambled to where the girls were, tripping over his own feet to reach them. He clung to Spark, who had gone completely pale.

"I touched it. I touched it!" Wiley said over and over again, digging his nails into her arm.

Spark didn't respond. She was just staring at the hatchet, her face becoming whiter by the second.

Thimble rolled her eyes and approached the hatchet without fear. She picked it up and began prying the bloodied hand off one finger at a time.

Wiley looked at her in horror. "What d'you think you're doing?!"

"I'm not going to waste a perfectly good weapon!" Thimble said, looking defensive.

Spark couldn't handle it anymore. She wrenched herself away from Wiley with a small gagging sound and stumbled off into the trees. A moment later, they could hear her retching.

With no one to cling to, Wiley clutched at his hair and started pulling on it. "District 7." He whimpered, "That belonged to the chum from District 7. And now he's dead. And now we're going to die too!" His voice rose to a desperate wail.

"Shut up!" Thimble snapped, "You guys are making way too much noise! And stop pulling your hair out, Wiley, you're going to be bald by the end of the competition."

Wiley obediently shut his mouth with one last whimper. Thimble paused to listen; hoping whatever did this to Barrett wouldn't soon come after them. She could hear nothing except the last of Spark's attack. A moment later, the poor girl stumbled back into the clearing, wiping her mouth.

"Please get that out of here." She croaked, averting her gaze from the hand.

Thimble quickly tossed the hand into a bush. Then she bent down and wiped her hands on the grass, pondering aloud, "What do you think did this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Wiley said, blue eyes as wide as they could go, "The thing! The thing that was howling yesterday!"

As if on cue, a chorus of howling went up around them. Everyone froze where they were. It sounded closer this time. And it was quickly growing louder.

"Oh my God!" Wiley choked out, "You've got to be joking—it's happening again! Oh, please make it go away…!"

"Leave the stuff!" Spark cried out, "Run! _Run!_"

The three of them took off into the woods, side by side. The thought of splitting up shot through Spark's mind, but she knew it wasn't a good idea. Wiley and Thimble had already proved they were faster than her yesterday. Already, she was falling behind.

"Get to the tree!" She called after them desperately, her strength fading fast.

The sound of pounding feet and breaking branches reached her ears. There was a flurry of barking as if they were being chased by a pack of wolves. Spark told herself not to look back…

She did anyways.

A shrill scream parted from her lips when she realized what was chasing them. It was Cerberus, the three-headed dog that guarded the gates of hell. Never in her life could she have imagined she would be facing down a legendary, fictional beast. Yet here he came, storming through the forest as if the trees around him were merely twigs. All three heads had their teeth bared, saliva pouring out of their gaping jaws.

"Wiley!" Spark screamed desperately, struggling to keep up with her alliance, "Thimble!"

But Wiley and Thimble were sprinting as fast as they could go, lungs burning with effort. Wiley led the way, charging through undergrowth with adrenaline pumping through his system. He nearly didn't watch where he was going and ran straight into another tribute as he burst out of the foliage.

"AH!" Wiley dodged around the unexpected visitor, who was kneeling on the ground, stuffing a bag full of mangoes. The 17-year old immediately regained his momentum and shot off, screaming, "Run for your life, mate! We're all gonna bloody die!"

"Wha-?" Al watched, paralyzed, as Thimble then Spark came streaking past him. Not even a second later, Cerberus crashed into the clearing, snarling ferociously.

Al let out a high-pitched scream and started to run for it as well. The four of them sprinted as fast as their legs could carry them, but Cerberus was gaining. The tributes could feel his hot breath on the back of their necks. Teeth snapped at the air, inches from their heads.

Al put on a burst of speed, but Spark was still a few feet ahead of him. If Cerberus caught him now, he would be devoured. On an impulse, he reached into his bag and yanked out a stick of dynamite he had taken from the ship. Then, with a loud yell, he tossed it over his shoulder.

There was an explosion followed by an ear-splitting howl. The alliance of three slowed their steps and looked back to see Cerberus had collapsed onto the ground. Two of its faces were contorted with pain, emitting drawn out cries. The third head, the one with the squashed face, was gone. Only a stump of its neck remained, gushing dark blood.

Whimpering, the gigantic hound pawed at the wound. One head reached around and began to lick at it frantically with frightened whines. Al just watched, sprawled on the ground from the impact, a dazed look in his eyes. He didn't even seem to realize just how close he had come to being torn apart. The others had frozen in their tracks, stunned as Cerberus gathered itself and went stumbling off into the forest, letting out a mournful howl.

The sound faded within the minute.

Al slowly climbed to his feet and looked at the other three. Every part of his body was trembling. He scratched at his head, trying to appear unfazed, and asked, "Umm…o-okay, so what the hey was that, huh?"

Spark and Thimble didn't respond, still in shock.

"Y…You." Wiley panted, pointing a shaking finger at Al. His voice sounded strained and he looked as if he were about to collapse. "I remember you…f-from training. H…How have you been, mate?"

"Oh yeah, if it isn't my Same-Score Buddy!" Al exclaimed, grinning and laughing off the traumatizing event, "I'm doing pretty good. You?"

"You just blew up a muttation!" Thimble burst out before she could stop herself, "Is that all you have to say?!"

Al looked confused. "What else is there to say?"

"Y…You just blew up a muttation!" Thimble repeated in a high-pitched voice. "H…How…?"

Al shrugged, looking as confused as her. "I chucked some dynamite I took from that old pirate ship…uh, I mean," He suddenly seemed to realize he shouldn't have spilled so much info so carelessly. He let out an awkward cough and said, "I mean, I _might _have. If I hadn't gotten it from somewhere else…_not_ from the ship."

"Wait a second!" Spark said, finally jumping into the conversation, "You're with the Careers! I remember you from training. You nearly took my head off with a spear." She glared at him, unforgiving.

"What? N-No he's not! He wasn't with them when I saw him!" Wiley said, springing to Al's defense.

"Yeah, I'm not!" Al spoke up, holding his hands up, "I kid you not. I only tried to get in that alliance to protect myself during the Bloodbath, but they tried to kill me anyways so I got out of there."

"Splendid, then you can be in our alliance!" Wiley decided.

"What!" Spark practically exploded. "Are you some kind of moron, Wiley? Isn't there one cell in that brain of yours that follows the rule of common sense? He was with the Careers! Stop inviting tributes into this alliance at the drop of a hat!"

Thimble felt like that was a jab aimed at her, but she stayed silent.

"But he says he's not anymore." Looking determined, Wiley drew himself up to full height and said, "Besides, I started this alliance, didn't I? I…I can invite whoever I want! I mean, if that's okay with you…" The look on Spark's face immediately shut him up.

"Look," Al said, speaking up, "I can show you where to get supplies, if it'll make you trust me. I really don't wanna fly solo for the entirety of the Games."

Thimble narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You're probably leading us into a trap. Besides, we have all we need on this island. There's plenty of clean water and food to go around."

"Yeah, but the food makes my stomach hurt…" Wiley mumbled a protest.

"No, seriously, guys!" Al motioned to his cutlass sword and the bag at his feet, "I'm telling you the truth. I got all this from the pirate ship—right after the Careers socked me in the jaw, see?" He bared his teeth to show them the missing tooth and winced slightly. "Err…anybody been sponsored some painkiller, by the way?"

Spark just glared at him, wordlessly. Thimble and Wiley remained silent.

Al gave a small chuckle. "Heheh…I know what you're thinking: I'm kind of like a pirate, aren't I? Arrgh, matey!" He whipped out his cutlass without warning.

Spark gave a small cry of surprise and leaped back a foot. Al just grinned and waved his sword, continuing his pirate impression. Spark glowered at him, feeling a tad embarrassed, while Wiley continued to look befuddled. Thimble, however, let out a small snort.

"All right! _Someone _thinks I'm funny." Al said triumphantly, tucking the cutlass back into its sheath.

"_You're _not funny." Thimble said immediately, "Just the fact that you think you are is. It's almost sad, really."

Al just laughed, good-naturedly. "I don't believe I introduced myself. The name's Al."

"I thought your name was Almond?" Spark said with a glare.

"Just call me Al. And you are?"

Spark hesitated for a moment. Then she introduced everyone, scowling all the way. "I'm Spark and this is Wiley and Thimble."

"Sparky?" Al asked, tilting his head as if he hadn't heard properly.

"It's Spark."

"Sparky?"

"_Spark._"

"Sparky. Got it." Al said with a mischievous grin. "So! What should we do now that we're in an AL-liance?"

"We're not—" Thimble started to argue, but Wiley was already spilling everything to Al at a mile a minute.

"For starters, we've got a canoe that we hid in a tunnel somewhere, but first we should go back and get the food we left at the lake. Everything tastes great, but it does all sorts of wonky things to your stomach. Have you got any of that dynamite left?"

"Oh yeah, I'm loaded!" Al said, swinging his bag onto his back. "Lead the way, Wiley."

Wiley began to lead the alliance back the way they had come without any hesitation whatsoever. Spark and Thimble trailed behind, still feeling uncomfortable.

"I don't trust him," Thimble hissed, "Remember he said he was a compulsive liar?"

For once, Spark found herself agreeing with Thimble. "Yeah. And he was going on about that stupid block party he and Kalin were planning. I don't think we'll soon forget the way Kalin won last year…"

Suddenly, Spark's boot tapped something on the ground. She looked down to see something glimmering at her feet. It was a dog tag, clinging to a few scraps of red material. She bent down and picked it up, reading the name that had been engraved onto the gold surface.

_That's odd…_

"Spark?" Thimble called back, glancing around in a paranoid manner. "Don't ditch me with these two."

Spark tucked the tag into one of her pockets and zipped it up. "Coming!"

The two of them caught up with Wiley and Al. Al was summarizing his first day in the arena and they listened intently, wondering whether or not he was telling the truth. If he wasn't, he certainly had a talent for making things up on the fly.

By the time they made it back to the lake, Al had completed his story and Wiley was starting on theirs. Needless to say, they didn't have as many interesting events to detail. Wiley warned Al about the food once more.

"Luckily, I've got some food from the ship on me I'd be happy to share!" Al said, standing and admiring the lake view. "Not too much though. That Buck guy ran off with most of my supplies, but luckily he didn't take my dynamite or we'd be toast!"

"Almond?" Spark said, interrupting as he stopped to take a breath, "Do you have matches on you?"

"No, why?"

"I was just thinking it'd be nice if we could…" She trailed off as a new realization struck her. "Hey, if you don't have matches, how did you light that dynamite?"

Al just stared at her blankly. "I didn't."

Spark let out a loud gasp and took a few steps back. "You _didn't_? Don't you know what that means?!" She shrilled, "The dynamite is unstable! It's probably been sweating nitroglycerin in this hot weather and could explode without warning at any given—"

Al got the message. With a startled cry, he yanked off his backpack and lobbed it as hard as he could.

"You idiot!" Spark shrieked.

The backpack hit the ground—hard. The next moment, there was a large explosion as the bag lit up in flames and burst to pieces. The alliance of four threw themselves down as heat blasted their faces. A moment later, a few smoldering bits fluttered to the ground. Aside from that, all of Al's supplies had just been obliterated before their eyes.

"Aw man, look what you did!" Al sighed, looking incredibly disappointed as he struggled back to his feet.

Spark just gaped at him for a moment, unable to grasp his stupidity. "I…I didn't tell you to _throw _it!" She said, very close to losing her head and screaming at him.

"You said it could explode at any given moment!" Al argued. But then realization seemed to dawn on him. "Y…You saved my life!" He moved in to give Spark a grateful hug, but she shoved him away.

"I didn't do anything," She scowled, "It only exploded because you threw it. And now we've lost the only weapon we have."

Al paused thoughtfully. "Not necessarily. There's plenty more back at the ship." He looked at each person in the alliance, waiting for them to say something. They all exchanged nervous glances, having no idea whether or not to trust Al.

Wiley found his answer in an instant. "All right!" He declared, "Let's go get the canoe."

"All right!" Al grinned.

He and Wiley began to move off, leaving Spark and Thimble with no choice but to follow. They both knew they couldn't lose the canoe; besides, it was dangerous to stay in one place for too long. The Gamemakers would have wanted them to move on.

"Hey," Al spoke up, looking quizzically at each member of the alliance, "So if you got yourself a canoe, why haven't you tried leavin' the arena yet?"

Spark just rolled her eyes.

* * *

"Can't we just wait for the other tributes to kill each other for once?" Ian moaned as he watched the Careers pack up their stuff, "Why do we always have to do all the hunting, since when did it become our job?"

Sagitta tried very hard to refrain from shooting an arrow straight at his face. But he was making it awfully difficult. If he wasn't going to help them hide their supplies, couldn't he at least be quiet? All he had done for the past thirty minutes was complain. A light rain had started up and he was constantly fussing with his hair like some sort of spoiled diva from the Capitol.

"This really isn't necessary." Ian said abruptly, stepping in Jade's way as she towed a backpack filled with their remaining food and water towards the cliff. "Why don't you just let me guard it while you all run off and have your fun? Honestly, I don't mind."

"Pansy." Zale muttered under his breath.

Sagitta suppressed a smirk. Oh, Zale. For a man, he wasn't completely awful. "So what are we doing today?" She said, turning to look coolly at Meredith. She always had a plan.

"We're going to split up," Meredith explained patiently, "You and District 1 will take the canoe to that island with the cabin." She swept her arm towards the tiny island that was the furthest away. She trailed her finger along the horizon to point at the jungle island. "Then you head to that one. We have yet to explore that island, after all, and it seems fairly large."

"What will you and Zale be doing?" Sagitta asked suspiciously. She couldn't help but wonder why they were pairing her off with District 1. If a divide were forming in the alliance, they would want her on their side, wouldn't they?

Meredith shook the question off. "We'll be swimming to whichever island we believe harbors tributes." She said vaguely.

Sagitta didn't push the issue. She turned her attention to where Zale and Ian were, standing at the cliff side. They were both peering down at Jade. With her expert climbing skills, she had found a large niche to hide their supplies in. She scaled up and down the rocks like some sort of spider monkey.

When her deed was done, she seemed to harbor twice as much energy. "Ready to go?" She asked, eyes bright.

"I guess…" Ian said, sounding pouty.

"Good luck." Meredith said. She and Zale began to retreat down the hill, but then she paused and glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, Jade. Don't forget your spear."

"Excuse me?!" Jade snarled, but Meredith had already continued on her way.

"If you're not careful, this will end up just like last year," Sagitta cautioned.

Jade glared furiously at Meredith's retreating form. "It better—because District 1 came out on top last time."

The three of them headed down to the canoe after that. Before they even reached it, District 4 had already plunged into the water and swam off like a pair of seals in the direction of the swamp island. The other three boarded the canoe and set off for their assigned destination.

For once, Ian found himself being forced to work as they took turns paddling. At first, it was rather difficult, but once he got the hang of it, it was actually quite enjoyable. There was something rewarding about propelling the boat through the water. At some point, they reached the counterclockwise current that swirled around the islands. It slowly carried them to their destination; all the while, they were on the lookout for other tributes. But everyone seemed to be hiding away, out of sight.

"Which tribute do you think we'll find hiding in the cabin?" Jade pondered, taking a moment to relax her arms.

"District 3." Ian said instantly, "Those guys are pathetic."

"I say District 8." Sagitta mumbled, thinking of how young and vulnerable they were, "Though I wouldn't mind taking out District 10 as well."

"I hope we find Frezno." Jade said, a devilish glint in her eyes.

A while later, the canoe finally scraped the sandy shores and came to a halt. They hopped out, dragging the boat a few more feet in so it wouldn't float away. Jade looked at her teammates and held a finger up to her lips, motioning for them to be silent. She clutched her spear firmly in her hands and began to make her way towards the house. Ian and Sagitta followed, Sagitta carefully stringing an arrow.

The cabana was standing on a deck with thin, wooden stilts that appeared to be rotting. Steps led up to a creaky door that hung off its hinges. The windows at the front of the tiny house had no panes within them. The smell of wet wood and salt hung in the air.

Jade took each step at a time, moving as quietly as she dared. But each one gave a loud creaking protest as her weight bored down on it. As the rest of her teammates began to ascend the stairs, even more noise filled the air. Jade bit back a furious remark and allowed them to accompany her. Besides, she had already reached the door. If someone was hiding in here, they were going to have a difficult time getting away.

With one quick movement, Jade flung the broken door aside. Disappointment immediately filled her to the brim when she saw no one was inside the cabin. But then she spotted a tight hallway at the back. She crept towards it slowly with the others right behind.

The front room they walked through was fairly barren with damp wooden floors and condensation dripping off the walls. Dark mold grew in the creases. In the kitchen area, an old table stood at an angle due to a broken leg. Two dirty chairs faced one another at either end.

Jade led the way to the first door in the cramped hallway. With little hesitation, she flung it open, only to find the dusty interior of a closet waiting for her. Sadly, the shelves were empty. They moved on to the other door.

This one contained a bedroom. It was devoid of any tributes, much to the three hunters' disappointments. A bed was crammed into one corner with only a moth-eaten mattress to boast of. There was also a vanity with a broken mirror and a chest of drawers.

"Well, well," Ian purred in a sultry voice, "The Gamemakers were thinking of my needs when they made this arena." He caught Jade's eye and nodded towards the bed. She curled her lip in disgust, but her heart fluttered nervously in her chest, as it often did when Ian flirted with her.

"Why?" Sagitta said, mocking astonishment, "Is this a replica of your house?"

Ian shot an irritated look towards his fellow Career. "I don't think I need to answer that." He said curtly. Without another word, he slid over to the vanity and began preening himself in the mirror.

Jade didn't even want to guess how atrocious she must have looked. The rain made her hair extra frizzy. She hated the fact that Sagitta's still appeared to be perfectly untouched.

Ignoring Jade's envious expression, Sagitta strolled over to the bed to check underneath it. Unfortunately, no tributes were hiding there. Next, she opened up each drawer only to find disgusting, soggy clothing that would be of no use to them. The island-patterned vacation clothes had holes eaten through them and a sleazy bikini had been worn so thin that it couldn't cover an inch of skin if it tried. Sagitta quickly shoved it back in the drawer before Ian could see it and make a risqué comment.

Meanwhile, Jade went back to the kitchen and checked to see if there was any food. There wasn't. Something hanging on the wall caught her eye. It was a crooked picture frame. She approached it and wiped the dust off it with a soaked sleeve of her wetsuit.

It was a picture of the beach, taken from out in the waters, possibly from a boat. Behind a boardwalk, tall buildings rose up and an amusement park could be seen in the corner of—oh.

It was the 42nd arena. Before it had been torn to shreds, anyways. Jade wouldn't soon forget such an exciting year, which produced yet another victor for District 1. But for some reason, the photo sent a chill up her spine.

Luckily, Ian and Sagitta quickly came to join her and distract her from this discovery.

"Let's check out back and get out of here. It's no use dawdling." Sagitta said firmly, heading towards the exit.

Jade was too eager to leave this place behind. "Not to mention it's creepy and disgusting. Come on, Ian, let's go."

"Fine." Ian sighed, sounding almost disappointed. "But we should come back here sometime in the future—without an escort. With just a little tender, loving care, we could fix this place up in no time and have ourselves a nice private island."

Sagitta rolled her eyes from up ahead. Jade responded in an annoyed tone, "Shut up, Ian. If this is your idea of a vacation home, no girl would ever want to come here with you."

"And yet, _two _girls came here with me!" Ian said with a victorious grin, "My sex appeal can't be contained!"

"That's not…! Ugh! You're so annoying."

Much to Sagitta's chagrin, their banter continued for the duration of the ride to the next island. In fact, it seemed to take twice as long as the one before. She found herself wondering what was stopping her from sinking arrows into both of District 1's skulls.

They reached the jungle island before she could seriously consider this notion any further.

"Here, Ian." She said, shoving an empty pack they had brought along into his hands, "If you see any food while we're exploring, get it."

"Why am I in charge of the food?" Ian asked, looking disappointed.

"You're the big, strong man. That's why." Sagitta said sarcastically, already heading off. Ian followed her without any more complaints, strapping the bag onto his shoulder.

As they approached the lush greenery, Ian was suddenly seized with excitement. His eyes lit up with absolute exuberance. Jade and Sagitta didn't seem to notice nor share in his discovery. But why would they? Those two only saw an untamed jungle—Ian saw a beautiful garden brimming with possibilities.

He slowed his steps, allowing his allies to walk off without him. Then he turned to the reddish green plant growing along a tree he couldn't identify. But he knew exactly what this plant was: _Toxicodendron diversilobum_. Someone less knowledgeable than he would have called it poison oak. It didn't belong in this sort of terrain, but what did it matter? It was there for the taking.

_This arena really was made to suit my needs! _Ian thought triumphantly. _Then again, it's probably been finished for months. Still, this is my year!_

After checking to make sure Jade and Sagitta had gone, Ian prepared to harvest the poisonous plant. He coated his hands with mud beforehand to protect himself from the toxins. Then he began stuffing clumps of it into his bag. He took a few branches as well.

Sagitta was an idiot, telling him to harvest food. Didn't the silly thing know that the jungle contained all sorts of diseases and poisons? Of course, it usually contained the remedies as well. Sap from a rubber tree could cure any stomach problem. But Ian could care less what a rubber tree looked like. He was not here to gather remedies.

After a short walk, he found a _Carapichea ipecacuanha_ and dug up its roots without any hesitation. Ipecac root was a great way to rid oneself of poison, but it was so strong that it could lead to dehydration, as the user would be unable to stop emptying the contents of his or her stomach.

Ian spotted a great deal of poisonous tree frogs resting on leaves as well, but he knew better than to touch them. Just a brush of the skin, and you'd be in great peril. He also saw a number of insects that he couldn't identify. They were on the large side with a disgusting number of legs, so he stayed well away.

When he saw a snake go slithering past, Ian became fully convinced that this island had been made for him. It was poisons-galore, no questions asked!

But as he followed the snake through the thick undergrowth, he suddenly had the feeling he was being watched. He looked up to see another tribute staring him down from the trees and let out a small gasp.

It wasn't Jade or Sagitta.

"Oh…you again." Ian said, letting out a sigh of relief when he realized the tribute was no threat, "You shouldn't go around stalking people like that. It's considered polite to say hello."

Buck didn't respond and glared down at the Career. He had hidden himself in the leafy branches of a chewing gum tree. He was prepared to spring at Ian if he tried anything, but he didn't.

"I have no time to teach you manners," Ian said in a superior voice, pointing a sword at Buck, "Now leave me alone! I'm busy."

A smirk appeared on Buck's lips. "My, ya'll are doin' a stand-up job of takin' down the rest of the tributes, ain't ya?"

Ian glowered at Buck for a moment. Then he turned away, blowing a stray hair out of his face. "Don't get too comfortable." He said in an airy voice, "My little harem accompanied me to the island. If I tell them to kill you, they'd do it in a heartbeat."

"Harem?" Buck echoed with a snort.

"Yeah, that's right." Ian said, eyes glittering. "But I suppose someone like you has never experienced what it's like to have girls throwing themselves at you everywhere you go. I pity you."

Buck shook off the insult. He had seen Ian hanging around those girls in training and they didn't seem to be impressed with him at all. He was a delusional narcissist, as far as Buck was concerned. "So…" He said, trying to sound as he was making mere chitchat, "What about that smelly fish-face from District 4? Is he in your harem too?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," Ian said, lifting his chin, "District 4 went off to some other island. Good riddance!"

"All right," Buck said in a smooth voice, cautiously beginning to work his way down the tree, "I don't wanna bother you none, so I'll be on my way. I'd appreciate it if you could at least give me a head start before you call your harem over here."

"Whatever." Ian mumbled, catching onto Buck's sarcasm. He let the slippery tribute go running off without even lifting one of his swords. He had better things to do—like finding that snake and milking it.

But little did he know, something else was watching him from the trees, waiting to pounce…

* * *

"Where could he have gone?" Jade said, beginning to sound desperate, "Why would he just disappear without saying anything?"

"He's an idiot," Sagitta said flatly, in no mood to console her ally, "You should have expected this." She silently crossed her fingers that Ian wouldn't ever come back.

On their own, the two of them had stumbled upon some strange ruins that blended in with the green landscape. The manmade structures were overrun with plants, barely visible through them. A small overhang made for a good shelter, but they didn't need a new place to camp and there were no tributes to be found, so they had moved on.

Now, instead of hunting tributes, they were wasting their time looking for Ian.

Suddenly, a loud scream went up from nearby. Jade's expression immediately became one of panic. "Ian!" She shouted, turning and rocketing off towards the sound.

_Could they stand to make a little more noise? _Sagitta thought irritably, following behind closely.

Before they could get very far, Ian came shooting out of the jungle, shouting frantically. He nearly ran headlong into Jade; his body was writhing madly as if he were trying to shake an army of spiders off of him.

Or in this case, scorpions.

"Get them off! GET THEM OFF!" He shrieked, flailing his arms. At least a dozen of them were clinging to his wetsuit with their tiny pinchers. One was sitting right on his forehead.

Jade let out a small squeal and leaped back, petrified at the sight of her ex. Sagitta supposed she could have helped him, but she preferred to watch him struggle instead. Besides, he could have impaled her with the way he was waving his swords around.

In a matter of seconds, Ian managed to rid himself of every last scorpion on his own. They plopped onto the ground and skittered away. But Ian continued to shake, as if he was convinced there were more.

"It stung me! It stung me right on the head!" Ian said, his voice trembling so much that it was difficult to understand him. He swiped at his bangs, revealing a red lump already beginning to form. His eyes were wild with terror. "Does it look bad? It's bad, isn't it? I think my face is going numb…!"

"N-No, you look fine!" Jade lied quickly, "What happened out there, Ian? Where did you go?"

"They fell from the trees!" Ian exclaimed, his voice rising in pitch and volume. He looked around frantically, as if searching for something. "Antivenin! I need antivenin!" He threw his head back and shouted, "Someone, sponsor me! I'll give you anything you want, I'll give you the Victor's crown, just _please _sponsor me some antivenin!"

Jade had never seen Ian act like this. She was beginning to grow scared. She couldn't think of how to help him. _What if he dies? _The very thought made her want to cry.

"Calm down!" Sagitta hissed, still thinking about all of the tributes that could be in the area, "Scorpions aren't deadly, anyways. Are they?"

"Some are!" Ian burst out, rounding on Sagitta angrily.

"Well excuse me for not knowing!" She snapped.

"We need to treat it!" Jade said, "Come on, we can wash it off back at the canoe."

"Wh-Which way is the canoe?" Ian asked, his eyes wide with fear.

Jade shot a glance at Sagitta, but she didn't offer any guidance. Both of them had lost their bearings. But Jade declared, "This way!" with confidence and led her team in what she thought was the direction of the canoe.

As they went, she continuously asked Ian how he was feeling. He moved gingerly, despite having only been stung on his forehead.

"I think I'll live," He said, grimacing slightly, "But it hurts." He reached up and touched it lightly. He could feel a hard, burning lump forming on his head. He bit back a cry of despair. He didn't want to imagine what he looked like. He must have looked dreadful—this sting was going to ruin his reputation.

He would no longer be the most beautiful tribute. He had been refraining from killing and counting on his looks to get the Capitol on his side. But now, no one would want to sponsor him. No one!

As he followed Jade and Sagitta, he suddenly became aware of the bag slung on his shoulder. It was heavier than it had been when he arrived. A determined glare settled across Ian's face as plans began forming in his mind.

If he couldn't be beautiful, no one could.

**RIP Xander-Jabberjay and Fluffy Head #3…what? Can't a muttation have a proper funeral service?**


	27. Seven

**Busy weekend, so I'm updating now. Vote in the poll, if you haven't already. I can't help but capitalizing the sins since they're the name of the islands, I hope it doesn't get on anyone's nerves too much.**

Flick was the first to awake, late in the morning or perhaps early afternoon. Sunlight sifted into the tunnel they had taken shelter in. Claire continued to doze beside him and he couldn't help but wonder how she managed to sleep so fitfully for so long. But he let her continue. This seemed to be a safe place to stay.

Waiting around, Flick quickly grew bored. Careful not to wake Claire, he climbed to his feet and began to venture deeper into the tunnel. As he left the light of the sun behind him, the air seemed to grow thicker. The ground turned to hard stone underneath him. If he set his foot down with enough force, it produced a sharp tapping sound.

For a minute, Flick stood in one spot, stamping his foot and enjoying the fun results. But then a new noise reached his ears: a long, high-pitched whine that echoed through the tunnel.

Flick froze where he was, listening. The sound did not repeat. Feeling only curiosity, Flick cautiously continued down the path. It sloped deeper into the ground. Not even the tiniest shred of sunlight could be seen and Flick had to wait for his eyes to adjust.

Suddenly, he came upon a large cavern and had to shield his face. The tunnel had led him to a large, underground cave. The reason he had to shield his eyes being that parts of the walls and ceiling were made of strange crystalline material. The beautiful rock formations formed stalactites and stalagmites that seemed to glow with an unearthly light. In fact, the ceiling seemed to dance with it. Only then did Flick realize he must have been directly underneath the lake.

He couldn't help but gape in wonder. This was truly magnificent. He had half a mind to go back and retrieve Claire, to share this wonder with her. But he couldn't seem to move his feet.

There was a small whine. A dark, hulking shape shifted in the corner. Flick instantly recalled the strange crying from earlier. Before he could escape, he found himself looking into the eyes of a huge, floppy-eared dog. His gaze traveled down its neck and settled on its massive body. The beast had two heads. The other one was sleeping, the skin around its snout slightly wrinkled as if it were thinking angry thoughts. It seemed like there was room for a third head, but there was only a stump. Poor design on the Gamemakers part, he supposed.

Anyways, the muttation seemed harmless enough. The first head stared at Flick with a morose expression. Then, with a sigh, it lowered its head to rest it on a paw.

Flick prepared to move closer for a better look. Suddenly, a cold hand covered his mouth and yanked him backwards. He tried to cry out.

"Shush!" Claire hissed in his ear.

Flick relaxed and allowed her to roughly drag him back to the mouth of the tunnel. She looked furious. Once they were safely outside, she finally let him have it.

"Why would you do that?! Why would you just wander off without telling me? Don't you realize where we are, Flick? Tell me where we are!" She demanded.

Flick felt a prick of annoyance. He avoided Claire's gaze, wishing he could have pounded his frustration out on a piano. Instead, he obediently muttered, "The Hunger Games."

"Right," Claire huffed, "And you realize at any moment that the Gamemakers or another tribute could come along and kill you—"

"I know!" Flick burst out, unable to contain his frustration.

"Don't interrupt me!" Claire said, her voice rising.

"You're not the boss of me, Astron!" Flick shot back. With that, Flick turned and rushed off into the forest.

Claire was so stunned that she didn't even bother pursuing him. She just stood there and let him go. "Astron…?" She mumbled, thinking it some sort of insult. It sounded like that's what he was aiming for, but she wasn't sure. A moment later, she realized she might have just lost her only ally.

"Flick?" She called, hurrying off after him, "Flick!" But he had disappeared in a flash. As if the forest had swallowed him up. She could feel tears threatening to overwhelm her. How would he survive without her guidance? How would _she _survive without someone to care for…?

"FLICK!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, not caring who heard her.

Flick watched Claire from a tree he had scaled, sitting perfectly still in its branches. He continued to tremble with a certain amount of fury. He was all set to ditch their alliance and go the rest of the Games alone. But hearing Claire's desperation caused it to fade. She was only trying to look out for him, after all.

"I'm here, Claire." He called softly.

Claire turned around, her face filled with relief. "Oh, thank goodness. Flick, you need to stop running off…!" She stopped herself before she could start yelling at him again. Instead, she approached him and said in a calm voice, "I apologize for chastising you, but surely you understand why I did it?"

"Yeah…I guess." Flick mumbled, slowly making his way down the tree.

Claire cast a nervous glance around. "I hope no one heard that. What do you think we should do now?"

Flick felt a bit surprised that she would ask him. He tilted his head, trying to think of something. "Breakfast?" He wondered.

"All right, though it might be lunch at this point." Claire said, glancing up at the sky peeking between the trees. "Then I want to get going. It's not safe here, with that giant muttation."

"But where are we going?" Flick asked, feeling disappointed to leave this mysterious yet beautiful island behind.

"The next island in line." Claire decided, "We should keep moving. We won't stop until we find a safe place to stay."

Flick agreed. He didn't bother arguing with Claire—maybe she was just saying that to comfort him, but he knew otherwise. No place in this arena was safe.

* * *

The first place Meredith and Zale visited on their little trip was the swampy island where they had taken down Rowan. Meredith had suggested checking up on the strange nest again. There, they found that the eggs were back. But that wasn't the only thing they found…

"Eels." Meredith said instantly as soon as she was able to identify the swarming mass of sea creatures before them.

The eels were larger than anything either of them had witnessed back in District 4. Their bodies were sleek and smooth, skimming easily through the water with quick movements. Each one had an almost goofy look on its face, with their mouths slightly agape, but sharp teeth could be seen gleaming within. The eels lazily swirled through the water above their nest of absurdly large eggs, twining with one another. A few seemed to realize Meredith and Zale's presence. They fearlessly approached the edge of the water and circled, waiting for one of them to step in.

"Don't go in." Meredith warned.

Zale had to refrain from rolling his eyes. "Thanks for the life-saving advice. Remind me to not jump in the volcano later on too, will you?"

Before Meredith could respond, the eels that had not yet noticed them suddenly began to pick up the pace. Like a dark cloud, they swarmed together and collectively darted down one of the streams, in the direction of the Cornucopia island. It was as if a silent voice had ordered them to go at once. Though their bodies quickly went out of sight, the water churned violently where they were, giving away their position.

Only a few remained behind, the ones that had noticed Meredith and Zale through the surface of the water. They began to drift casually along the water's edge, looking as if they meant no harm. They probably couldn't wait to get a bite.

"Let's go." Meredith decided, "I'm not getting in the water while they're there." She set off in the opposite direction the swarm had gone, heading towards the volcanic island. Zale followed.

After a minute of walking in silence, he glanced into the saltwater rivulet winding next to him and noticed the eels were following them.

"Hey." He tapped Meredith's shoulder and motioned to them. She didn't need to be told twice. Both of them moved off a good distance away from the water. The eels remained for a moment, and then swam back the way they came, their dark bodies cutting easily through the water.

"They're smarter than your normal eel." Meredith noted.

"No kidding," Zale murmured, "But then again, I wouldn't know. I haven't spent much time studying fish ever since my parents decided my life should revolve around training."

For some reason, Meredith felt annoyed that Zale had suddenly decide to mention his family. "You make it sound like it's a bad thing."

"I'm not." Zale answered instantly, "It's what I wanted."

Meredith didn't respond to that. Instead, she changed the subject back to eels and decided to educate Zale a little bit on what they were capable of. For example, moray eels (which these seemed to resemble more than anything) had two sets of jaws—one to clamp down, one to tear and swallow bits of flesh. It would be wise to stay away from the churning water that contained the hungry eels.

Conversation stopped when they reached the end of the island. Deciding to scope out new territory, they swam to the volcanic island. That way, they would have something new to report to the others.

The path that led to the top of the mount was steep and tired the two Careers out quickly. Some places, the path ended or became so steep that they had to climb with all fours. Halfway up, they stopped for a break.

"So…this is definitely going to erupt at some point." Zale panted, hunching over to place his hands on his knees. "The Head Gamemaker can be so predictable—well, sometimes…once in a while…"

Meredith sat on the dusty ground, wiping the sweat off her brow. "Remember not to jump in when we get to the top." She muttered.

Zale's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "This is new. Meredith cracking jokes? What has the world come to?"

Meredith snorted softly. "Don't think you have everyone figured out as soon as you lay eyes on them."

Zale smirked and shrugged a shoulder. "I usually do—I'm very intuitive."

"Yeah?" Meredith said, glaring him right in the eye, "Well, if I recall correctly, you seemed to buy my lie pretty easily. So don't get too cocky."

"What lie?" Zale asked sharply. His mind raced to recall anything Meredith had said to him that could have been a lie. He came up blank. _Wait. Was she lying about the eels having two jaws? Was she trying to make me look like an idiot? _

Meredith reminded him before he could make any more assumptions. "Back on the train, when I told you I was sorry for that comment I made about you and your sister? I wasn't." She said coldly.

Zale gawped at her, stunned. "But…you seemed so sincere!" He said, his voice rising. His shoulders slumped, losing their usual stiff confidence. He stood there goggling at Meredith for a moment. Then he looked away, awkwardly running a hand through his hair.

"Let's get going." Meredith decided, rising to her feet. Zale followed behind, his brow furrowed, his eyes blinking constantly. It was almost comical.

She felt a mixture of pity and smugness looking at him. Someone needed to bring spoiled little Zale back to reality—he wasn't special. Especially not compared to her, the relative of a victor. Victory did not run in his family and it never would. Still, his devastated reaction was out of the ordinary and she found herself wishing he'd revert back to his normal, brooding self.

"If it makes you feel any better," Meredith said, slowly heaving herself up a ledge, "I see you as a dependable ally now. I wouldn't say it again." It was probably the worst apology ever, but that was as good as he deserved.

Zale stood on the ledge above Meredith, staring into the distance. He didn't bother trying to get a read on whether she meant it or not. He didn't want to miscalculate again. With a heavy sigh, Zale told her, "You may be a loyal ally, but there's no stopping me from killing you. There's only one girl I'd hesitate to kill and I lost her a long time ago. You can't replace her."

Meredith froze where she was, suddenly alert. By his words, it seemed as if Zale would plunge a knife into her. But he turned away and continued up the trail. Meredith rolled her eyes—he was just being overly dramatic.

At the top of the island, they came to a large crater that emanated heat. A dead tree that resembled a rotting skeleton stood near the edge of it. Its dry, brittle branches drooped towards the earth as if it wanted to die, but couldn't.

Zale stepped up to the edge of the crater and looked in. The heat was so intense that it formed beads of sweat on his face instantly. He wiped them away, squinting past the wavering air to see magma broiling deep in the earth.

Meredith stood back a bit, breathing cleaner air. A thought occurred to her: she could easily push Zale into the pit from here. He was off his game—it would be simple. And she could easily convince the Careers that a mutt or something else had gotten to him.

Zale turned and walked back to where she was. Meredith looked away. The opportunity vanished as soon as it presented itself. And yet, she wasn't sure she wanted to act on it. Zale could still be of use to her yet.

* * *

After getting Ian to carelessly spill information a second time, Buck had instantly set off for the island they made their camp on. There was no time to grab the raft. Besides, swimming left him more flexible. Before leaving the jungle behind, Buck stopped by the Careers' canoe to check if they had left any supplies in it. Unfortunately, it was empty.

Obviously, District 4 wouldn't be dragging supplies around with them. Anything the Careers had acquired yesterday would most likely be at their camp. Luckily, they had broadcasted the location of their camp to all of the other tributes with their torches last night…

Swallowing his pride, Buck got down to business and quickly swam to the center island. He pushed himself to sprint to the top, no matter how much his muscles burned. He couldn't risk being spotted by anyone. Only when he reached the graveyard did he slow.

Then he found a safe spot and crouched in front of a stone to catch his breath. A dark-feathered, crested bird fluttered over and alighted on the grave before him.

"Good morning. What's for breakfast?" It chirped in the pleasant voice of a female.

"The hell?!" Buck spluttered, his brow crinkling as he tried to process what had just happened. He looked around to make sure he was alone.

Another bird flitted over to sit near Buck. It approached him with a few quick hops and eyed him cautiously.

He glared at it, waiting for it to say something. "Well go on," He told it, "Crap some gold. I wouldn't be too surprised if you did—these damn Games get weirder every year."

The Jabberjay ignored him. It shot forward with surprising agility and snagged a caterpillar on the end of its beak. After snapping it up, the bird announced proudly, "You're an idiot for letting me live."

"Who cares how I feel?" A familiar voice snapped from nearby.

"Let's talk Hunger Games!" Another declared.

All at once, every single Jabberjay began chattering away. Buck just watched the scene play out, shocked. Most of the voices he couldn't put a name to, but it was disturbing nonetheless. "L…Little bastards!" He snarled, shoving his hands over his ears, "Damn you, I have things to do!"

Without wasting a moment, he retreated towards the tree. The sound of the Jabberjays followed him. His heart fell when he realized there were no supplies. Only a few burnt out torches remained. Cursing, Buck climbed the tree, wondering if they could have hidden their supplies up above.

Ian's taunting voice rang in his ears. _Good job pointing out the wire trap by the way, _it said. Hmph. There was no way he hadn't taken advantage of that knowledge. At least Buck would one-up him if he could only find where they hid the stinking supplies…

The tree was empty. Buck searched behind every gravestone next. As he did so, he began to grow tense. He visualized the Careers arriving back at any moment. He kept glancing up and craning his neck to see if the waters were clear. So far so good.

A sudden thought occurred to him. He slowly turned to face the other direction, wiping the rain out of his eyes. _Could they really have hidden it in the cliff? _

The rocks were slippery with moisture. But Buck hadn't come all this way for nothing. He quickly made his way to the edge of the cliff and looked down. His heart rate increased and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. Okay, if he fell, it wouldn't be _too _bad. Landing on a rocky outcropping might break every bone in his body, but if he missed the rocks and landed in the water, maybe he'd have a chance. Then again, he heard hitting water at a high speed didn't make much of a difference.

"Stop thinkin' about it and just get on with it!" Buck scolded himself. Without pondering it any further, he slowly began to lower himself down the side of the cliff. He was completely convinced he would lose his hold at any moment and plunge to his death.

Then another thought occurred to him. _Why not just go to a lower part of the island, where the cliffs weren't as dangerous, and climb sideways? _

No, no. That wouldn't be much better. He would just have to put some time and effort into this. He was tough—he could do it.

And so, taking long, deep breaths, Buck moved down the cliff an inch at a time. With each movement, he would secure that each of his hands and feet had a secure hold on the rocks. It was a tiresome, pain-staking process. Every part of his body was tense.

He wondered if the cameras were on him right now. That meant everyone was watching him: Ram, his grandma, Darby, all those Peacekeepers, Evangeline…

Another step and his foot touched something that shifted. It was a bag. He had discovered the cave where the supplies were hidden. But Buck refused to let himself feel any excitement until he had lowered himself enough to climb inside. Once he was safe and out of the rain, he grinned. _Jackpot!_

He began sorting through the loot, planning to take only what he needed back with him. There was a rolled up sleeping bag and a few small pouches. It was tempting to curl into a ball, lay his head on the sleeping bag, and fall asleep here, but that was a foolish notion. He pushed the sleeping bag aside, knowing he couldn't tow it back to the jungle island. It would only get soaked and weigh him down, so it could stay here.

_On second thought… _

He flung the sleeping bag out behind him and watched it fall. It unraveled and fell almost lazily towards the ocean beneath it. It was a good sight.

Buck checked the next bag—it had a small amount of food and water. This was what he was looking for. He zipped it up and slung it around his shoulder. Another bag contained matches (which he already had), a bandana, plastic wrap, rope, bug spray, and a few bandages, one of which appeared to be used.

Deciding that none of this was important enough to lug back to the island, Buck carelessly tossed it over his shoulder as well. Instead of hitting the ocean, it landed on a lower outcropping further down the cliff.

"No one's here. How's your wound?"

"It's been stinging all day."

"So why didn't you say something? I'll apply some new bandages."

The unexpected sound of voices nearly caused Buck to lose his hold on the cliff. He slowly looked up to see two faces appear above him: District 4. For a moment, they just stared at the boy that had strewn their belongings all over the cliffside. Buck offered them a hapless grin. He wasn't getting out of this one. There was only one option.

"Sorry, fellas! Looks like there's a new sheriff in town!"

With all his strength, he pushed off from the cliff and plummeted downwards, twisting his body into a dive. He narrowly missed striking an outcropping and splashed into the ocean below. The impact nearly caused him to black out.

The water here was incredibly deep, and his momentum sent him shooting down many feet. Pressure pushed on his eardrums and made his head feel like it would explode. His lungs screamed for air. Desperate to surface, Buck strongly kicked out with his legs and arms. The bag slightly weighed him down, but he pushed on, keeping a firm grip on it. In a few seconds, he was gulping in a massive mouthful of air. But he knew the danger hadn't ended.

Paying no mind to the exhaustion that pulled on his muscles, Buck began to swim back to the jungle island. Each stroke made his arms feel heavier and heavier, but he would not give in. District 4 could be right behind him for all he knew—he was too anxious to check.

But they were still up on the cliff, having watched his escape in awe. Zale suddenly tensed all of his muscles and prepared to dive off after him. Meredith reached out and caught his arm.

"No. Look," She said, her eyes focused on something in the distance.

Zale followed her gaze and saw a familiar sight from this morning. The waves were churning. A dark cloud seemed to move just beneath the surface of the water. It was off to the right—but it seemed to be moving in Buck's direction.

Zale smirked. "All right. Let the eels take care of him."

* * *

Buck had nearly made it back to the island when he encountered the fringe of the eel force. He didn't even sense them coming—not until a sharp pain suddenly dug into his calf and refused to let go. Something else pricked at his elbow, pulling on the material of his wetsuit. A lithe body flashed by and he realized what his attackers were.

With a fierce roar, Buck took back all of his wasted energy. He jetted through the water with new speed. The eels shot after him, trying to keep up, trying to fix their jaws around whichever body part they could reach. But Buck writhed and fought, hope rising in his chest as the jungle island loomed ahead of him.

Pure agony lanced up his leg from the eel that was locked around his leg. But he worked through it, refusing to stop until he felt the blessed sand beneath his bare feet. The swarm of eels retreated to avoid being caught up in the waves that crashed onshore.

Buck quickly limped onshore. He had arrived at one of the long, sandy peninsulas—but he was out in the open. To the best of his ability, he sprinted inland and didn't stop until he had immersed himself in jungle cover. Only then did he collapse and survey the damage.

The eel was gigantic, longer than his arm and thicker than his neck. Its teeth were completely buried in his flesh, its glassy eyes staring off into space. Wincing, Buck reached out and tentatively poked the bloodthirsty sea creature. It immediately sprung back to life, writhing its sleek body as if it couldn't pry its own jaws off its meal.

With no other options, Buck wrapped his hands around it and struggled to remove it. He cried out as teeth ripped through his tender skin. He tried to force the eel's head away, but then he spotted a second pair of jaws embedded in his flesh. The damned thing had two sets of teeth.

Holding back an anguished moan, Buck began to smack at the eel with his fists, beating it into a pulp; just like tenderizing meat as a butcher. Only his job didn't involve battering seafood. He was only bent on killing this thing, so it would stop struggling to eat him alive.

A combination of Buck's blows and lack of water eventually killed the eel. Only when it fell still was he able to pry each set of jaws out of his calf. He rolled back his pant leg to take a look at the wound. His heart fell when he laid eyes on it. The eel had literally taken a bite out of him. His skin was torn up and bleeding. Pain caused Buck to tear up, but he quickly wiped his eyes to clear them away. He immediately regretted choosing the food bag and not the other necessities.

With no bandages on him, Buck ripped off a sliver of the bag's material and pressed it to the wound. He held it there for a long time, watching it slowly turn red. He was afraid to remove it and ruin the clotting process. Sighing, he settled back and closed his eyes, careful to keep applying pressure. "Sure could use a sponsor right about now…" He murmured.

He basked in the setting sun that filtered through the trees for a long time, allowing it to dry him. Eventually, he fell asleep.

* * *

Tumor.

Thimble decided that was the perfect word to describe Al. He had planted himself into their alliance like some sort of unwanted growth, and now he was unwittingly dictating all of their actions. She and Spark surely wouldn't have followed him back to the Cornucopia if not for him and Wiley taking the canoe. He seemed dead set on getting that dynamite—at least there hadn't been any Careers lying in ambush for them.

Now she found herself waiting for him outside the pirate ship, secretly hoping he'd get blown up in there. But all her hopes were for naught. He appeared in one piece, toting supplies.

"Sorry bout leading you to think there was food here." Al said with a sheepish smile, "Careers cleared everything out. However I _did _find two more backpacks to fill with dynamite and some fishing line and bandages they must have passed over." He held up both said items, puffing out his chest proudly.

"There's no food?" Spark said, slapping a hand to her forehead, "Great! Now we'll have to go back to that other island and eat more drugged-up papayas! Thanks for nothing."

"Sparky, you going deaf in one ear?" Al said, waving his fishing line up and down, "I'll just catch us a nice fat tuna and we'll be all set for the night! Besides, we're lucky the Careers didn't spot us when we came over here. You really wanna go all the way back to the other island?"

"The other island had more cover." Wiley said nervously.

"It also had a rampaging, three-headed dog." Thimble reminded him. "Well…two-headed, as of today."

"Good to see someone agrees with me! C'mon, we'll be fine so long as we keep the pirate ship between them and us. And if they do show up, we'll just say 'hold this!' and throw it at 'em!" Al bounced a bag of dynamite on the palm of his hand proudly.

"_Stop doing that!_" Spark said shrilly.

Al froze immediately, eyes going wide. "Sorry, sorry! I keep forgetting this stuff can blow at any minute. I'm sorry!" He carefully set the bags down in the sand and the four of them moved closer to the water, keeping the pirate ship between them and the tall island.

As the sun neared the western horizon, the sky became a pastel of blues, oranges, and pinks. Despite the rain that had lasted into the afternoon, it seemed as if it would be a beautiful evening. In a daze, Wiley moved off from the others and sat down, watching the sunset as if it were his last. District 3 didn't boast such beautiful skies and he was taking advantage of every second.

Meanwhile, Al set to work putting together a crude fishing rod. He found a decent stick and began to attach the fishing line to it. Spark sat nearby, observing what seemed to be her token. She shot a sideways glance at Al's progress.

"How are you going to make a fish hook?"

Al took a moment to secure the fishing line before responding. "Elementary, my dear Watson," He said, looking fondly at Spark, "All ya need is a splinter of wood from that ship over there and something to carve it with. It's a little tough cause ya gotta sharpen it on one side and add a groove on the other. Then you gotta tie the rope in a way so the hook's at an angle in the water."

Spark never would have admitted she was impressed by Al's knowledge. Maybe there was a brain in there, after all. Albeit a very small one.

It was a little while before Al finally perfected his fishing rod. Thimble hunted down a cricket for him to use as bait. They got the line in the water and were finally able to relax. They relished in the last warmth of the sun as it dipped further towards the ocean. Thimble leaned against a palm tree and closed her eyes for a snooze.

"Ughh…" Spark gave a loud groan, disturbing the peace. "Look at this! I think I'm getting a pimple."

Al tore his eyes off the sea to look at Spark. He laughed, "Are you pulling my leg, Sparky? There's not a single thing wrong with that pretty face of yours! In fact, it's almost _electrifying_." The terrible joke only served to make his grin grow wider.

Spark was oblivious to his flattery. "I had a special face cream at home for acne. It made my freckles fade too, but now my face is a grease fest! And I have a headache. I wish I could have brought my medication to the arena."

_Must be nice to be rich. _Thimble held back a sharp retort. She couldn't understand why Spark was complaining about face cream when their bellies were empty. Then again, appearances were pretty important to the Capitol. Thimble ran a hand over her face, feeling the closed pores and the little lumps that had formed under them.

Their stylists had taken measures to prevent hair growth and menstruation, but the acne treatment hadn't been as long term. Thimble guessed her pimples would have reestablished their hierarchy on her face by the end of the week—if she lived that long.

In the meantime, she would just have to put up with Spark's complaints.

"What's that you got there, Sparky?" Al said, finally cutting off Spark's grievance about her frizzy hair, "Your token?"

Spark seemed to remember what she held in her hands. "No…it's a dog tag. I found it after you blew Cerberus's head off." She held up the little golden tag, allowing it to catch the rays of the sun. "I assume it came off his collar. But strangely enough, it doesn't have his name on it."

At that moment, Al got a nibble on his line. He reeled it in to discover he had hooked a minnow the size of his pinky. Thimble couldn't help but let out a derisive laugh. Al shrugged, "It's a start," and cast it back out in hopes that it would lure bigger prey.

Spark seemed annoyed by the interruption. "As I was saying," She said haughtily, "Cerberus is the three-headed dog that guards the gates of hell; that was obviously him. But it doesn't say his name on his tag!"

"That's because the Gamemakers weren't worried about him running away from home." Al said in all seriousness.

The look on Spark's face caused Thimble to snort. Al perked up, as he always did whenever his jokes got a reaction.

"Fine. See for yourself." Spark said, chucking the dog tag at Al's head. She had wanted this to build up to some sort of dramatic reveal and he had ruined it.

Al picked the tag up out of the sand and read the name on it. "Gluttony?"

Wiley, who sat a few yards away, came out of his own little world to enter the conversation for a brief instant. "That's a weird name to give your dog…"

"It's not a name for a dog," Spark said in an important voice, "It's one of the seven deadly sins."

Wiley stared at Spark blankly for a moment. Then he turned away and resumed staring off into the distance.

Thimble sighed and decided to play along with Spark's stupid game. "What are the seven deadly sins?" She asked on cue.

Spark lifted her chin, a proud smirk on her face. "Pride, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Lust. These are the seven sins and seven circles of hell. I would know; I read Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri."

"Ooh, look at you!" Al said, a playful gleam in his eyes.

Spark tossed her hair. "I'm very well read." She admitted, drinking up the praise.

"Did you notice the pirate ship is named Greed, then?" Al said, turning and pointing a finger to the golden letters on the side of the boat.

Spark couldn't have looked smugger. "No, I didn't. But there you have it! Each of these islands represents a sin. This one is Greed—the one with Cerberus and the addictive fruit is Gluttony."

"What are the others?" Thimble asked, for once very interested in what Spark had to say.

"Well," The other girl responded, sounding all-important, "The tall island with the tree is obviously Pride, because a prideful person thinks themselves above anyone else. Fitting for the Careers to be up there, isn't it?"

"Got that right!" Al agreed.

"I'm thinking the volcano is Wrath, but I'm not completely sure. The one in between seems to resemble a swamp, and it's said that wrathful souls cooled their rage in a swamp. But I'm pretty sure the volcano is Wrath, since none of the others seem to suit it as far as I know." She let her gaze rove towards those two islands.

The volcano was merely a shadowy silhouette against the setting sun. Wiley sat in the sand, watching the scene with glazed eyes. Spark felt a pluck of annoyance that he wasn't paying any attention to her mind-blowing discovery.

"Well, Wiley?" She said abruptly.

He gave a start at his name, and then slowly turned his head to look at her. His mouth hung open in wonderment. "…Huh?"

"Do you have any input on this conversation?" Spark prodded, narrowing her eyes.

Wiley just stared at her, his blue eyes becoming wider and wider. They shone with anticipation and the slightest trace of fear. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a dazed smile.

"What's the matter with _you_?" Thimble said, arching an eyebrow.

Wiley reached up and adjusted his glasses, looking like a scientist that had found the solution to his long-researched hypothesis. "Well…" He said in a controlled voice, "I just got an idea…but it's bloody dangerous."


	28. The Tempest

**Wow, that hell poll was a fun one! Let's find out-wait, let me try that again per lunarisque's suggestion...that was one hell of a poll! Let's find out where everyone will be burning for all eternity! :D  
**

**1st Envy with 8 votes  
**

**2nd Pride with 6 votes  
**

**3rd Sloth with 5 votes**

**4th Greed and Lust with 3 votes**

**5th Wrath with 2 votes**

**6th Gluttony with 1 vote**

**Awesome, looks like we'll have readers in all the circles! I'll be partying down in the lowest one, Pride, so look me up when you get there. Haha just kidding we'll all be too busy suffering! Unless we made it to purgatory or heaven. Man, I wanna go play Dante's Inferno now. It's so much fun finding random historical figures and either absolving or punishing them. When I came across Pontius Pilate I was like "YOUUU SINNERRRR" and I sent that sucker straight to hell. One second later I was like "What would Jesus do? …Aw shoot."**

**There's your Hoprocker story for the day, now back to our regularly scheduled story.**

Wiley paced back and forth in the sand, waiting for a lapse in the conversation to make his brilliant plan known to the others. But as soon as he had spoken up, Al hooked a fat fish and everyone proceeded to make a big deal out of it.

"What do we do now?" Thimble asked, standing back and goggling at the flopping fish.

Al was eager to show off his fishing knowledge in front of the other inexperienced tributes. He killed it with a swift blow from his cutlass.

"Dinner is served!" The dark-haired boy announced with a flourish, bowing in Spark's direction.

She refused to look impressed.

"Excellent!" Wiley said, clearing his throat, "Maybe over supper we can discuss my sudden epiphany—d…did I use that word right…?"

"Great job, Al," Spark groaned, rolling her eyes and ignoring what her district partner had to say, "But in case you hadn't noticed we don't have any matches. So unless you expect us to eat it raw…"

"Um…I was speaking…" Wiley faltered.

"You can eat it raw!" Al retaliated, "Sushi, right? Don't they do somethin' to sushi to make it edible?"

"What on earth is sushi?" Thimble mumbled, wondering if Al was just messing with them. She'd never heard of such a thing.

"_Excuse _me, I was talking." Wiley said in a light voice that sounded very forced.

"Maybe we can use dynamite to cook it." Al said, wracking his brain, "Wait, no. That would just disintegrate it."

"No kidding." Thimble sneered.

"_Someone _had better figure out how to cook this thing because I'm getting awfully hungry!" Spark complained.

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Wiley said, throwing up his arms. He snatched up a stick and some dry grass and stomped over to where his allies were arguing. With a scowl, he whipped off his glasses and held them a few inches above the makeshift tinder nest, focusing the last rays of the sun into a small beam of light. The other three watched as a small amount of smoke began to unfurl from a burning ember. Wiley leaned in and blew on it with even breaths until it lit up in flames. Then he sat up.

"Right, so as I was saying—"

"Wiley, you made fire!" Spark burst out ecstatically, her jaw dropping. "Good job!"

Al flashed him a thumbs-up and Thimble gave him a few slow claps, smirking.

Wiley scratched at his head awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do with their attention now that he had it. "Umm…yeah, that was my skill I was gonna show to the Gamemakers, but silly me, forgot I needed the sun for it."

"So you were saying you had an idea?" Al said, nabbing a few sticks to feed to the fire. He stuck the fish on one as well and handed it to Thimble to roast. Then he snatched his fishing rod and cast out his line once more.

Finally, Wiley attained his moment to speak. With wild gesticulations, he revealed his genius idea.

"All right…so you know how those Career blokes are wanting to kill us? Well, not just us, they probably, er, _definitely_ want to kill everyone…but! I think I've finally thought of a way to fight back! Y'see, what we'll do is…we lead them to the volcano island—Wrath?—which, y'know, shouldn't be too hard because they want to bloody murder us! Hahaha…ah, that's not funny. But once we reach the island, we drop these dynamite sticks in and boom! No more Careers!"

Everyone just stared at Wiley with blank expressions. He fidgeted uncomfortably under their gaze.

"S…So that's it."

"That idea…" Spark said in a flat voice, "Just might be crazy enough to get us all killed."

Wiley's face fell. "…You think so?"

"I know so!" Spark sighed, "Honestly! Just when I was beginning to gain some form of respect for you. Well, I'll let you figure it out: if we drop dynamite into an unstable volcano, what do you think will happen?"

"Well, it explodes. Obviously...probably." Wiley said, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about.

"And where will we be standing when it explodes?"

"At the top—oh." Wiley's shoulders slumped. "I get it now."

Spark nodded. "We'll just forget you said anything."

"Yeah, man! What were you thinkin'?" Al said, giving a light-hearted laugh.

"He wasn't." Spark said flatly.

Al looked slightly apologetic. "A for effort though, right?"

Thimble sat there, fuming silently throughout their entire conversation. Her fists were clenched tightly and rage made her stomach roil. She didn't know how much more of Spark she could handle. All she did was complain and shoot down everything Wiley said. Okay, Wiley was an idiot, an idiot who was as good as dead, but he didn't have to live out the last of his days in insecure misery with someone berating him constantly! And now Al was here, agreeing with everything she said—probably just because he thought she had a pretty face. She couldn't take it anymore!

"It's not a bad idea!" Thimble spoke out harshly, "I mean, if you just set up some kind of trigger mechanism and time everything perfectly so that you could escape the island in time, then you'd be golden!"

Spark turned her critical eyes upon Thimble. "And how would one go about setting up a trigger mechanism, hm?"

Thimble met her gaze and glared right back at her. "I think someone from District 3 would know better than anyone. You guys know all sorts of things about traps and technical stuff." She said through gritted teeth.

Spark didn't soften. "I think Wiley here proves that stereotype wrong."

Wiley nodded in agreement, his blue eyes downcast.

"Well…" Thimble searched her mind, trying to come up with a way to defend him. He wasn't making it any easier by agreeing with his belittler. "How long is that electrical cable that comes out of the dynamite?"

"You mean the fuse?" Al spoke up. "Maybe a few inches, there's a big roll of the stuff in the chest, though."

"I doubt there's enough to run the length of an island." Spark sniffed.

"But what if there's enough that it allows us to escape in time?" Thimble challenged.

"You'd have to physically be there drop it down into the volcano. Where would you leave the dynamite at?" Spark pointed out.

"I don't know. Use a rope to tie it in place, then have the fuse burn through the rope!" Thimble shot back, spitting out the first excuse she thought of.

"We don't have rope."

"Yes we do—the rope that tied the canoe to the ship."

Silence followed her words. Spark was quiet for a long while. She mulled over this new idea in her brain, looking at it from all angles. It was full of holes. It was too big of a chance to take. There were a number of things that could go wrong and she highly doubted they would be able to get all of the Careers in one place and escape from them alive.

But for some reason, the desire to try out this experiment began to arise within Spark. She snapped out of her thoughts and realized everyone was staring at her. She let out a loud sigh and rolled her eyes.

"Fine. _Maybe _it could work." She said with a wry smile, "Let's discuss it over a nice dinner of fish."

"Yes!" Wiley said, unable to contain himself. "Brilliant! Go team! What can I say? Biggest muscle in my body: my brain. Second biggest? My muscles!"

"The brain is an organ," Spark said, shooting her district partner a withering glance, "But good try."

Despite this, Wiley couldn't wipe his wide grin off his face. For the first time in a while, he felt as if his ideas were actually appreciated.

* * *

Buck woke up to the sound of the anthem. He didn't mean to doze off for so long, but he had been especially weary. Sitting up with a groan, he rubbed at his eyes and wondered if anyone would be shown in the sky tonight. But the anthem ended quickly, betraying that it had no faces to show.

With a sigh of relief, Buck checked his injured leg. Much to his dismay, it was no longer red. It was orange, red, blue, yellow, green, pink, and black. A number of colorful butterflies rested along the length of his leg, antennas twitching, long tongues slurping up the blood that stained his calf.

Buck slapped his hand over his mouth to muffle his yell. He kicked out, sending most of the butterflies flying. A few clung to him, tickling him with their spindly little legs. Buck swatted them off in a panic. Then he looked at his wound to see that it had been clotted successfully. The butterflies had cleaned up the excess blood.

Maggots had often been used to eat dead tissue off infected wounds back in District 10. Maybe these butterflies worked in the same way. A pink one flitted back to his leg to try and grab another snack. Buck caught it on his hand and lifted it closer to his face to observe it.

"Maybe you ain't so bad after all," he said.

In response, the butterfly suddenly inserted its long tongue into one of his pores. Buck cried out at the sharp prick and smashed the butterfly with a fist before it could have a taste.

"Never mind." Buck grimaced, wiping the gooey remains on the ground. Blood sucking butterflies…they must have had some mosquito genes in them. What a terrible combination. At least the blood on his leg had sated them while he slept. An image of the butterflies covering him, sucking him dry in his sleep, led him to shudder.

He needed to get back to his raft on the western beach. Buck struggled to his feet and tenderly put his weight on his injured leg. He gritted his teeth at the aching pain that accompanied it.

Biting back a few choice words, he steadily began to limp his way back to camp. He hoped the Careers would get their act together soon enough—he didn't know how much longer he could stand roughing it with a wound that might get infected.

* * *

All was not well among the Careers.

After the other team came back to find that Buck had escaped with their food, there was much blame being directed towards District 4 for being unable to stop them. District 4 wondered how he had known they hadn't placed a guard, and how he had found their bag hidden in the cliff. Ian kept the truth to himself, of course, and let everyone else figure it out.

Luckily, Jade was able to climb down the entirety of the cliff and retrieve one of the backpacks that had been left on a ledge. In the end, they still had matches, three bottles of water that needed refilling, and a few other things.

Now, the night was beginning to turn cold. Everyone was in a grumpy mood. After Jade snapped at him for an innocent flirtation, Ian retreated to the graveyard and leaned against a tombstone, sulking. The others discussed what they should do about their predicament.

As Ian cleaned under his nails, he noticed a Jabberjay perched nearby, staring at him. Upon making eye contact, the bird fluffed up its feathers against the cool breeze and demanded, "What trickery is this?"

Ian pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling the red lump that had formed. It stung to touch. Sighing, Ian covered it with his bangs and said, "I don't want to talk about it."

The Jabberjay ignored Ian, stretching a foot one at a time. Then it swiveled its head around and began preening at its dark feathers.

"Y'know what, I don't care who knows," Ian spoke up suddenly, "These Games are really starting to piss me off!"

The Jabberjay whipped its head up and opened its beak wide. "Nothing but a ridiculous charade of commoners, by commoners, and for commoners." It said angrily.

"I never realized how much effort goes into survival. Why do people in my district even sign up to compete in this hellhole?!" Ian went on, throwing up his arms. His stomach growled in agreement. "I don't think I've ever gone so long without food. I'm pretty sure I've eaten three meals a day my entire life. But only one? Ridiculous!"

"You seek to insult me, peasant?" The Jabberjay asked.

Frustration flashed through Ian. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Okay, that is _it_. Panem is sick of hearing your voice!"

Without even rising to his feet, Ian lashed out with a hooked sword in one quick movement. At the same time, the Jabberjay spread its wings and took flight. Ian's sword grazed its tail, chopping off a few of its flight feathers.

The bird shrieked, "GET THIS FERAL OFF OF ME!" and shakily flew down the hill, its body skimming the grass. None of the other jays took up the cry, most of them having gone to sleep for the night.

Ian felt a small sense of satisfaction that he had made flying difficult for the nasty Saffron-Jabberjay. Taking out his anger on the Jabberjays was a good stress reliever. He eyed a nearby gravestone that read, _Ravish Blackwell_. Her respective bird was resting on top of it.

But before he could attack, Jade came walking over to him.

"Get up," She told him, "We're going to decide who hunts."

"That's easy." Ian snorted, "Sagitta and Meredith can go—they have long-ranged weapons. You know what? Let's send Zale too. He took out that Jabberjay this morning. Problem solved."

"We've decided to hold a little vote-off," Jade explained, ignoring his complaints, "The two of us with the most votes has to go to that island and bring back food." She nodded towards the largest island with the forest.

Ian felt dread seize him. "Why there?"

"We saw fruit trees…"

"And some gigantic bear…beast…thing!"

"I know," Jade said, worry flashing in her eyes, "But we've got to eat. The only other option is exploring the pirate ship further in, but it's too dark to see anything. It would be too dangerous."

"Let's eat the Jabberjays!" Ian suggested, beginning to feel desperate.

Jade shook her head. "We have a feeling we shouldn't kill too many of these things…did you see how they all looked at Zale when he killed Xander? The Gamemakers might unleash them on us if we try and eliminate all of their well-trained birds."

Ian couldn't find any other angle to argue.

"It'll be fine, Ian," Jade said quietly, "The others might not even vote you."

Ian relaxed slightly. "That's right. Why would they? I can't hunt!"

"That's right! You're useless!" Jade cheered him on.

"Yes, I am!" Ian agreed with a confident hair flip, "They'd be out of their minds to vote me!"

"Then let's go." Jade beamed, leading him back to the space near the tree.

The other three were gathered around a tiny fire they had started up, warming their hands. Everyone turned unfriendly eyes in their direction when the District 1 couple came walking up. Suddenly, Ian didn't feel as confident.

"Did Jade explain to you what we're doing?" Meredith questioned.

Ian nodded and sat down with Jade by his side.

Meredith looked at each of her teammates, the light of the fire illuminating her round face. The circles underneath her eyes seemed more pronounced, giving her a ghostly appearance. "Before we begin, let's all promise not to hold any grudges against one another for our votes. Don't challenge one another. We just quickly say who we wish to depart and move on with our lives."

"I vote Sagitta." Ian declared.

"Then I vote Ian." Sagitta said softly yet firmly.

"What?" Ian said, rounding on her, "Is that a joke? Why would you vote for me? She said not to hold a grudge!"

"Ian, let it go." Meredith murmured. She paused for a moment, considering her decision. Then she said, "I vote Ian as well."

"Now wait just a second—"

"I vote Meredith!" Jade snapped suddenly, cutting off Ian's protest.

The corner of Meredith's lip twitched. "If I die over there, it's unlikely you'll get your precious knives back."

"Ian will get them for me." Jade said, eyes flashing dangerously.

The tension in the air became incredibly thick without warning. Each Career looked at one another almost suspiciously, their eyes glaring.

Zale broke it with his quiet voice. "I guess it's my turn…"

Ian had two votes against him—he was most definitely going off to hunt. Meredith and Sagitta had one each. Zale was the tiebreaker. And he would most definitely not be voting for his own district partner.

"Sagitta." He decided.

Sagitta sat there quietly, letting the sound of her name sink in. She was going on a hunting trip with Ian.

Freaking. Ian.

"You can just kill me now, I've had it." She said bluntly. The Careers exchanged glances, unable to tell if she was being serious or not. But then she stood up with her bow in hand, motioning to her hunting ally. "Come on. Let's get this over with."

Ian looked sadly at Jade. "See you later." He muttered, giving her a weak wave. With exaggerated sluggishness, he gathered up his swords and a bag. Then he went trudging down the hill behind Sagitta, heading for the canoe.

"He looks awful." Meredith noted, once they were out of earshot.

"I bet you Sagitta winds up killing him." Zale agreed.

Jade winced slightly. But she tried to sound tough, declaring, "If she lays a finger on him, she'll have me to deal with!"

Meredith turned her cold gaze towards Jade, her eyes coming to rest on the spear she clutched in her hand. "I'd like to see that." She commented lightly, telling the truth for once.

* * *

The start of the canoe ride was quiet.

Sagitta loved the silence. There was nothing awkward about having nothing to say. Unluckily for her, Ian didn't feel the same way. He felt the urge to fill the quiet with his silky smooth voice at all times of the day.

"So tell me, Sagitta," He called up to her, paddling at the back of the boat, "Why do you hate me so much?"

_What a great conversationalist, _She thought bitterly. For a moment, she contemplated remaining silent. But Ian had given her the key to reveal her innermost thoughts. This opportunity would not go to waste.

"Because…" She said slowly, tasting each word on her tongue, "You encompass every characteristic I hate in a man."

There was a long pause. For some reason, Ian found this very entertaining. "_Ouch_." He said, holding back a laugh, "And what characteristics are those?"

"The characteristics every man has." Sagitta said simply.

Ian would have facepalmed were he not busy paddling the boat. "Careful, Sagitta. If you start acting sexist, you'll lose half your sponsors."

"I didn't ask for male sponsors, anyways!" Sagitta scoffed, "Men are all just vain, shallow fools. Their very existence—"

"Whoa, whoa, let's not have a hemorrhage over this!" Ian said, cutting her off, "It looks like someone's had daddy issues in the past."

"No. My dad is different."

Ian rolled his eyes. He wanted to grab Sagitta and shake her. But they soon arrived at the island. Only when they had finished docking and set off into the dark woods did Ian restart the conversation in a quiet voice.

"So let me get this straight: you hate all men and believe them to be the same, except your daddy is some sort of a special snowflake. Where did this even come from? Were you dropped on your head as a child?"

"You're really asking for it…" Sagitta hissed, keeping her voice low in case of any other living creatures in the area, "For your information, my mother brought home enough idiots for me to get a fair sample of your gender. Shallow, flirtatious jerks, just like you!"

"Oh, you're breaking my heart here," Ian said sarcastically, "You know, I'm surprised you don't hate women. Isn't it your mother's poor judgment that's leading her to bring home these men?"

"Well…yes." Sagitta said, wondering what point Ian was trying to make, "But enough about that! We have to find food."

Ian wasn't ready to give in. "Don't dodge the question," He chastised, "I'm trying to make you see the light."

"There is no light!" Sagitta snapped, "You're just being lazy again! Now help me look."

But Ian refused to take his eyes off Sagitta. "You say all men are like me. Do you really believe that? Look at some of the other male tributes. District 8, District 3, District 5…do they look like the kind of guys your mother would bring home? Can you imagine them brutally murdering another tribute? Or being surrounded by women, like I so often am?"

_Of course not. _Sagitta nearly answered, but she decided Ian's ego didn't need feeding. Speaking of feeding…

"Shush!" She snapped, throwing her hand up. "I heard something."

"You just don't want to admit I'm right." Ian snickered.

"No, your stupid reasoning just isn't going to change a grudge I've held for years. Now shut up and let's check over here…"

The two Careers moved cautiously and came upon their prey. It was a baby boar, standing in a small clearing, nibbling at the grass. It had dark brown fur with lighter stripes and stood on stumpy legs. It was actually kind of cute.

Ian and Sagitta crouched behind a bush, observing it. It didn't seem to be aware of their presence.

There was no exchange of words between the two. Sagitta quietly pulled out her bow and took aim. Ian kept his eyes glued to the boar, waiting for it to bolt. But it didn't.

Before Sagitta could release the arrow, something came crashing through the undergrowth opposite of them. A large, adult boar sprinted into the clearing, heading straight for the baby. With a roar, the adult snapped up the child in its sharp teeth, digging its large, lower tusks into its prey's stomach. Blood spurted forth instantly, staining the green grass beneath.

Ian nearly let out a shout of alarm. Sagitta just watched, mouth agape. The baby boar's squeals died down within a few seconds. Grunting, the cannibalistic adult began devouring it whole.

Ian got up and hurried off, looking majorly freaked out. Sagitta hesitated, but then followed him quietly.

"Go to the Hunger Games, they said. It'll be fun, they said." Ian kept muttering under his breath as he put as much distance between him and the boars as he could.

Sagitta caught up. "Get back here!" She growled, "So it's a carnivorous boar, so what? I can take it out with one shot."

Ian didn't bother pointing out the gigantic boar didn't seem like it could be taken down with one measly arrow. He just wanted to go somewhere safe. He was fully convinced the boar was going to come and devour them as well. _I'll never eat pork again! _

"Ian—" Sagitta began to argue with him, but she suddenly tripped over something in the dark. She let out a short cry and threw out her hands to catch herself. The thing she had tripped over was plump and soft. It was yet another baby boar.

Sagitta called Ian back. "Look at this!" She said, hands running over the crude snare that had trapped the boar, "It's a fresh catch. More importantly, it looks like a tribute set up this snare."

Ian watched with wide eyes. "You think there's someone nearby?"

Sagitta was instantly on her feet, reaching back to pull an arrow out of her quiver. "You strip the fur off the boar and stick it in your bag. I'm going to look around."

Before Ian could stop her, she went creeping off into the darkness. She kept her ears peeled for any sound. All she could hear was the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. And…something else. The gentle gurgling of a spring. Sagitta followed the sound; pushing aside bunches of river cane to make her way towards it.

By the spring, she found an abandoned camp. There were scraps of food littered on the ground…mango pits, banana peels, pepper seeds, and more. Unfortunately, the tributes must have moved on.

Cursing her luck, Sagitta still took the opportunity to fill their remaining water bottles. Then she returned to Ian, silent as a shadow. He didn't notice her come up. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously when she saw him sprinkling something over the exposed meat of the boar.

"What are you doing?" She said, causing Ian to jump.

Ian turned to face her with an angelic smile. "It's seasoning," He said smoothly, "It'll keep it fresh."

Sagitta stared at him for a moment, waiting for his defense to falter. He just blinked, waiting for her to say something. "You cook?" She questioned.

"Maybe I do," Ian said, tilting his and giving her an irresistible smirk, "Or maybe I just have good tastes."

Sagitta turned away, not knowing how to respond to that. She had Ian tow the boar back to the canoe—he needed to pull his weight more often. Surprisingly, he seemed okay with it. Then they gathered some fruit and set off back to their home base. Ian stayed oddly silent for the duration of the ride as well. Sagitta couldn't have been more thankful.

They arrived back to find their allies had not yet murdered one another. Everyone was excited to see what was on the menu for tonight and congratulated Ian and Sagitta on a job well done. Ian relayed a heart-stopping tale about the two of them escaping from a carnivorous boar that would stop at nothing to devour them whole. Sagitta let him have his fun. It made her look good, anyways.

Meredith lit a fire and began to cook the boar. For now, the tension between the alliance had dissipated. Everyone was dying to fill their bellies.

When Jade stepped away from the others to spread out the sleeping bag, Ian stepped in to help her. Jade was immediately on her guard. Ian never went out of his way to help someone.

"Hello Jade," He said evenly, fixated on what he was doing. She saw his eyes flick towards the others, checking to make sure they were out of earshot.

"What do you want?" Jade asked, keeping her voice low.

"Well…" Ian said in a careful voice, slowly lifting his eyes to meet hers, "I was just thinking…I wouldn't eat the boar if I were you."

Jade stared at him for a long moment, trying to get a read on him. "Why?"

Ian shrugged a shoulder, looking unconcerned. "It's a little stringy." His façade held for a second longer and then cracked. A devious grin stretched across his face and his eyes sparkled in triumph. Then he slinked off back to join the others.

Jade stayed where she was, contemplating his words. She knew Ian well enough to know what he had done. Just as he knew her weaknesses, she knew his strengths. And one thing was for sure…

She would not be eating the boar tonight.

* * *

It had been a relatively quiet day.

Claire and Flick had made it to the island with the cabin in one piece. They had very little food and water left—they would have to move on and find some more tomorrow. But for now, they could rest.

After exploring the cabin, Flick had found a peculiar item in one of the drawers, beneath a mound of ragged clothing. It was a notebook with thick, soggy pages. The front of the stained cover read _Beach Trip_. He was surprised to find many of the pages had been filled with writing. And so, he spent the evening reading them on the bed the cabin provided.

"I don't know why you're bothering with that," Claire said, lying on the floor with her hands tucked under her head, "It's just an arena decoration."

Flick didn't respond for a long moment, completely absorbed in his reading material.

"Flick! Listen to me when I am speaking to you!" Claire growled, bringing Flick back to reality.

"Sorry," Flick replied in a dazed voice, "It's just really nice to indulge in a little bit of escapism. The lady who wrote this diary seems so happy."

"What's her name?" Claire asked curiously, harboring a bit of suspicion for this strange discovery.

Flick flipped through the pages, but came up unsuccessful. "I don't know. But she came here for vacation at some point with a man she was in love with. She wrote down everything they did together. They rode dolphins together!"

The awe was clear in his voice. Claire just rolled her eyes from her position on the floor. "It's fiction, Flick. Those people never existed. Come on…why don't we talk about something else?"

Flick had already returned to reading the journal. It was as if Claire were invisible. She bit back a lecture and thought of something that would surely catch his interest.

"So…Astron's your sister, right?"

Flick immediately perked up, looking at Claire in astonishment. "Huh?"

A faint smile creased her lips. "You called me Astron today. Then I remembered your interview…do you miss her a lot?"

Flick put down the diary, fidgeting a bit. "Well, yeah," He admitted, "But you're not so different from her, so it's nice to have you around."

Claire felt touched that he would compare her to his sister. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away and smiled. "I have a little brother, you know," She told him in a fond voice, "His name's Noah."

Flick suddenly began tapping his fingers on his arm, as if the conversation no longer interested him. But that wasn't true. His mind was completely wrapped around it, enjoying these thoughts that reminded him of home. "What's he like?" He asked Claire, imagining Noah in his head.

"He's very quiet and kind," Claire told Flick, trying to keep her emotions in check, "He's a little low on self esteem, though, ever since our mother passed away."

A long pause passed between the two of them.

"My mother passed away too…it's a good thing Noah has you." Flick said softly.

Claire nodded, sadness beginning to choke her. _Not anymore, _is what she wanted to say. Instead, she muttered, "I'm going to bed." And turned away so that Flick couldn't look over and see the tears running down her cheeks.

"Are you sure you don't want to sleep on the bed?" Flick asked, "I don't mind sharing."

"No!" Claire said quickly, "Sharing a bed with a boy isn't proper! I would never dream of doing such a thing."

Flick felt himself blush a little bit. He didn't mean for her to take it that way, but he didn't push the subject. He let Claire do as she wished. As she attempted to fall asleep, he stretched out on the bed and continued to read the diary, straining his eyes in the dark.

A long while passed. The night grew black as coal. Dark clouds moved over the arena and thunder rumbled in the distance. Flick could hear waves practically pounding at the door, but he read on. He didn't feel the least bit tired after sleeping in so late.

Besides, the mysterious woman's journal entries had taken a turn for the disturbing. She began to question her lover's devotion to her. She wrote about how she didn't want these carefree days to end, how she wanted to keep him all to herself…

Flick began to grow fearful. The journal entries went from describing fun-filled days in the sun to acts of dismemberment. This woman was absolutely insane. She was going to murder her lover, who seemed to be a great guy from her many descriptions on him. Why would she do such a thing?!

Lightning crashed outside. At the same time, thunder rocked the cabana, causing Flick to drop the diary. Terror washed over him. It all made sense now. This beach house wasn't abandoned. Its inhabitants must have murdered one another! That's why their clothes were still here—they never left!

"Claire, wake up!" Flick said, his heart beating faster and faster in his chest.

"I'm awake." Claire said quietly. Flick could barely hear her over the rain that pounded the roof of this old shack. Lightning lit up her face in the dark.

Flick scrambled to the floor, showing Claire the diary and beginning to explain what happened to the two lovers. Claire was having trouble hearing him. The storm seemed to be right at the doorstep, pouring sheets of rain through the open windows.

"Flick, calm down!" Claire shouted, cutting off his haunting story, "For the last time, those people didn't exist! The Gamemakers just put this here to unnerve any tribute that reads it!"

"You don't know that for sure!" Flick cried out, but another crash of thunder drowned him out.

Claire felt something cold wash over her. It only took her a moment to figure out the seawater had risen above the stilts the cabin rested on. The fragile house was being pummeled mercilessly by the storm.

At the same moment, Flick seemed to realize that the unnerving diary was the least of their problems. "What do we do?" He asked, looking to Claire for aid.

She tried to stay calm, for his sake. But there wasn't much they _could _do. It was unsafe to go outside. But if the cabin flooded, they would have no choice.

Before she could decide anything, thunder blasted their eardrums followed by the sound of splintering wood. Claire screamed and threw herself forward to protect Flick. The walls around them seemed to explode and seawater came rushing in. The surge swept both Flick and Claire away with it.

"Flick!" Claire screamed, clawing desperately at the water. She felt her hand brush a wetsuit that wasn't hers. She clutched Flick's arm tightly, refusing to let go. She opened her mouth to remind him of what she taught him, but the roiling waves choked her. Lightning flashed all around them. Nowhere was safe.

Another roar of thunder, right over their heads. The two tributes' bodies were tossed through the waves like ragdolls. But they would not let go of one another.

Suddenly, wreckage from the cabin came spinning through the water. It crashed into Claire, driving the breath out of her lungs. She lost her grip on Flick instantly.

"Claire!" Flick shrieked, wild-eyed with fear.

Claire reached for him, but it was too late. Lightning flashed. The last thing she saw was Flick being swept away by the dark waters.

By the next flash, he had gone.


	29. Cold Blood

**Remember to review! I love to know what you think, so don't shy away from expressing your opinions! As always, a big thank you to those who do review consistently! Because you've gotten us all the way to 900. :)  
**

**If anyone is interested in submitting to my new DR SYOC, the prologue for that has gone up! You have plenty of time to create a profile if you wish. My job is starting Monday (and let's not forget about that fun-filled internship) so hopefully I'll have enough time to devote to each of my stories. I don't think I'm biting off more than I can chew because it's all mashed potatoes anyways and who chokes on mashed potatoes?**

**BTW there's a new poll up!  
**

**Does anyone need an island recap for Night 2?**

**-The Careers are on Pride  
-The Dynamite Alliance is on Greed  
-Buck is on Envy  
-Claire and Flick are probably dead**

**Let's do it!**

Meredith stumbled down the hill, trying very hard not to tumble forward and down into the raging ocean beneath. Her heart was pounding with fright and her throat was burning. The storm crashed overhead, sending ripples of fear through her body. Her calm mask was cracking with each passing second.

Suddenly, she fell forward, throwing out her hands to catch herself. Her palms hit the wet ground hard and sunk into the mud. At the same time, her body heaved. She could hear Sagitta off to her left, retching as well. But their bodies had nothing left to give. Every bit of food and water had been surrendered not long after dinner.

"Come on, we've got to get to lower ground." Jade said, trying to help Sagitta to her feet. The District 2 Career didn't seem to hear her, remaining crouched on all fours.

Meredith's fear of storms couldn't seem to move her any further. She curled on the ground, clutching her stomach, willing the pain to go away. Cold rain pelted her skin, but she felt dried up on the inside. She wanted to guzzle a gallon of water, but she knew she would only vomit it back up.

Something must have been wrong with the boar. It hadn't been safe to eat. Only Ian and Jade seemed unaffected by it. She faintly recalled Ian saying he was a vegetarian during the meal, which she found rather surprising. She hadn't seen Jade eat any meat either.

_How nice for them._

With a moan, Meredith rolled onto her stomach and let loose another round of coughing.

"Mere…" A weak voice croaked, "You okay…?"

She didn't have to look up to know it was Zale. At least he was on his feet. "I'm doing okay," She lied, "Despite all that's happened."

Zale reached down and tried to help his district partner to her feet. But both of them were lacking energy.

"Need some help?" Ian asked, squeezing between them both and putting his arms around their torsos. He guided both District 4 tributes toward the small rocky overhang Jade and Sagitta had hidden under.

It didn't provide good cover. The rain fell at an angle, soaking them. But they were safe, away from the lightning rod of a tree and the violent waters below.

Meredith curled up between the limp bodies of Zale and Sagitta, closing her eyes. Her heart refused to slow due to the storm. But she was weak and her stomach felt pinched.

Tonight would be a sleepless night. Tomorrow would be hell.

* * *

That morning, a thick fog had settled over the arena.

Buck had made it through the night and even gotten some sleep while he was at it. But it was an uncomfortable sleep. Dreams of his dead parents and their mysterious passing haunted him. He could still see their faces clearly, being only 8 when they departed. Why did everything go so wrong so quickly…?

With a gasp, Buck snapped awake. He was leaning against a tree, but he felt like a hovercraft was sitting on his chest. For the second time in 24 hours, Buck got to wake up with an unwanted animal attached to him. This time, it wasn't blood-sucking butterflies.

It was an enormous, yellow python. It had moved so slowly, so precisely, that it had been able to wrap itself around Buck's chest without waking him up. Now it was slowly tightening its grip with each breath he took…

Part of Buck's mind instantly said, _this is it for me. _He was tempted to start panicking and breathing fast, but that would only bring a speedier death. And he didn't plan to go down without a fight.

Summoning every last scrap of strength, Buck tried to push himself up. But the snake was heavier than it appeared. Grunting, he grabbed the tail of the reptile in his fist and wrenched it backwards, bending it in a way he knew would hurt his assailant.

The snake let out a soft hiss and loosened its grip. Bunching up his muscles, Buck rose to his feet and began to stumble towards the ocean. It wasn't far off—he stayed near it at all times to avoid the eyes at night. The snake struggled to regain its hold on its prey as he ran. The added weight nearly caused Buck to pitch forward, but he didn't do so until he reached the water.

As soon as he dove under, the snake let go completely. But Buck didn't resurface for a full minute, convinced he was still in danger. When he finally came up for air, the snake had completely disappeared.

Disgruntled, Buck made his way back to shore convinced that every animal in the arena was out to get him. He butchered them for a living, so it was only fitting.

But a moment later, he realized that this was the Gamemakers trying to send him a message. He wasn't interesting to the viewers. He was so incredibly focused on his own survival, that he had forgotten the entertainment aspect. He should be trying to interact with the tributes more if he wanted to live.

_You just can't win… _Buck sighed inwardly, _Just what the hell am I supposed to do now? Go make friends with the Careers? Yeah, right._

* * *

The self-named (or rather Al-named) Dynamite Alliance was now preparing to put this plan into action. They had spent the night in the pirate ship, discussing the details. It was a long shot, but they were willing to take it one step at a time. Plus, it gave them something to do. The Gamemakers most likely wouldn't sic mutts on them if they were trying to carry out an event that promised a good amount of action.

But before any of that could be set into motion: breakfast. The alliance planned to sail to Gluttony and quickly eat their fill before continuing on around, following the current all the way to Wrath. Hopefully, the Careers wouldn't spot them with the fog on their side.

"So who's going to carry the bomb bags?" Al asked nervously, standing before the two packs that were full of dynamite and fuse. One was a backup in case the other went off. Of course, no one wanted to be carrying it in case the temperamental dynamite decided to blow. No one volunteered.

"Here's an idea," Thimble piped up, "Rock, paper, scissors."

"Ah, classic." Wiley said, adjusting his glasses, "Let's do it."

Spark narrowed her eyes and nodded. The four of them stepped forward to form a circle and held their fists out.

"Ready?" Al declared, "Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"

Everyone threw out his or her choice.

"All right!" Wiley cheered when he saw the results. "I win!"

"Wiley, you lost." Spark said, holding up her hand, "We all played paper. You're the only rock."

"Exactly, rock flies right through paper, doesn't it?" Wiley insisted.

"No…sorry." Spark said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She waited for Wiley to figure it out in his head. When he did, he cast a horrified glance towards the packs of dynamite.

"Oh…" He squeaked, "All right then. I suppose I'll…just...just give me a moment to put it on, will you?"

While Wiley slid the backpack on, one centimeter at a time, the others returned to their game. The second round was a tie, as everyone played something different. The third round was not. Al and Spark played rock—Thimble played scissors. Her heart fell when she saw the two fists against her.

Al's victorious grin wavered slightly. "Eh…y'know what, I'll carry the other pack."

"What?" Thimble said, looking at Al incredulously, "But I lost."

"It's fine, I've got it." Al grabbed the other pack and carefully worked the straps around his shoulders. "You just relax and enjoy yourself."

For some reason, Thimble felt anger flare up inside her. She did not understand this random act of kindness nor did she like it. She felt like Al might as well have called her useless. "What, you think I can't handle myself?" She challenged him.

Al let out a long sigh, patting Thimble's shoulder. "Look. You've got your whole life ahead of you, kid."

"No I don't!" Thimble argued, shaking Al's hand off furiously. "We're in the freaking Hunger Games!"

But Al wouldn't take no for an answer. He was bearing this burden whether she liked it or not. Thimble quieted, deciding that she might as well accept it. Al was trying to be a nice guy, even though it ticked her off to no end.

Spark, ever the optimist, pointed out, "It doesn't matter. One of the bundles could go off while we're all in the canoe and blow all four of us up anyways."

"Nahh," Al said, staring hard at the canoe, "It's a big boat. With luck on our side, it'd probably take two of us out at most."

"That's reassuring…" Wiley sighed, looking miserable.

Once they had gathered themselves, the alliance positioned themselves carefully. Al sat in the front with Thimble just behind him. Wiley was crammed in the back with Spark in front of him. The girls would be doing most of the paddling.

Without any hesitation, they propelled the boat off the shore and entered the mist.

* * *

As Flick faded back into consciousness, he realized every part of his body felt unbearably sore. With a small moan, he forced open his eyes. The sky was stark white and hurt to look at. He lifted his head, squinting, and realized where he was.

He was at the base of the tall island, sprawled among the rocks. Waves lapped at his lower body, sending a chill up his spine. His wetsuit was cold and plastered to his skin. He forced his aching body to move and climbed a little bit higher, out of reach of the water. Then he sat on a sturdy rock, shivering.

"Claire?" Flick whispered, his voice hoarse. He looked around, but couldn't spot her bushy head among the rocks. She was nowhere to be found.

Terrible thoughts forced their way into his head: Claire drowning, getting struck by lightning, getting sucked into a whirlpool…he wanted to scream for her, but he didn't have the strength. He bowed his head, resting it on his knees. He was too tired to do anything.

Suddenly, the sound of voices reached his sharp ears. The breeze presented them to him like a gift. Flick craned his neck, looking towards the source. His eyes locked onto a pair of Careers, staring down the side of the cliff at him.

Then they vanished.

Trying to keep calm, Flick rose to his feet, fear giving him strength. He had to get out of here. He would swim to the jungle island, just like Claire showed him. Just like they did on Day 1.

He threw himself into the water and began to paddle, ignoring the fatigue that lined his muscles. He imagined Claire in the water with him, guiding him, reminding him to float on his back whenever he got tired.

As long as he kept going, he could get away.

* * *

"Guys, get up!" Jade called, running alongside Ian to where the three other Careers rested, "We spotted a tribute down the side of the cliff! He just swam off towards the jungle!"

Zale perked up immediately, shakily rising with knives in hand. "Let's go." He said breathlessly.

Jade stopped in her tracks, eyes widening with horror. "Are…are you sure you're well enough?"

"A little dehydrated, but that can come later." Zale croaked. He idly reached up and scratched at his face with a free hand.

Jade just gaped at him. "I'm not talking about the food poisoning. I'm talking about what's on your face!" As Meredith and Sagitta sat up, Jade gasped and pointed at them too, "Ew, look at your hands!" Naturally, her hands flew to her own face to make sure she hadn't been infected.

"What are you talking about?" Sagitta said, lifting a hand. She bit back a cry of disgust. It was covered in a red rash with little raised bumps. She scratched at them, willing them to be pimples, but the contact caused them to burn. "What is this?!"

"Oh, what a shame." Ian whistled, leaning on his pair of tiger hook swords, "What should we do now?"

"We go after that tribute!" Zale declared from the edge of the cliff. "He's swimming towards the jungle. C'mon! There's no time to get the canoe, we can catch him if we leave now!"

Ignoring his fatigued body, dry throat, and burning rash, Zale began to race down the hill. Meredith shakily forced herself to her feet. She immediately felt light-headed and spots appeared on her vision. Trying to shake it off, she cast a glare at Ian.

"Come on…" She said wearily.

Ian's eyes widened. "Huh?"

"You said you could swim. We might need you."

With no arguments, Ian was guilted into following his teammates down to the water's edge. Jade felt very left out, watching them go. But swimming was something that didn't quite come as naturally to her. So she would have to settle for being stuck with Sagitta.

The tall girl was nursing her reddened hands, casting suspicious glances at Jade. "Why are you not infected?"

Jade felt defensive her ally would suspect her. "How should I know? Maybe you picked something up in the jungle or in the forest when you went there with Ian."

"He doesn't seem to be affected…and District 4 didn't accompany us to either of those places."

"Well…" Jade searched for words, very aware that Sagitta was reaching for her bow. "Maybe it's something you ate."

Sagitta didn't respond for a long minute. She was testing her bowstring, trying to grow used to the new pain that accompanied stringing an arrow. "Oh well," She sighed, "I'll just have to kill someone today. Maybe that'll get me a sponsor."

Jade was suddenly on her feet, staring off into the distance. "You might get that chance sooner than you think." She said, pointing, "Look!"

In the distance, a long, dark shape was moving slowly over the calm waters above the fire coral. They could barely make out the blurred figure through the fog, but it was there. And they knew exactly what it was.

"The alliance that took the other canoe!" Jade said, adrenaline filling up every fiber of her being. She quickly grabbed her spear while Sagitta climbed to her feet with some difficulty. They exchanged a smirk. "Herbivores flock together."

Then the two of them raced down the hill with renewed vigor. Sagitta leaped into the front of the canoe and Jade took the back, trading in her spear for a paddle. Without a moment to lose, they pushed off from shore and began paddling strongly after their prey.

* * *

Through some kind of miracle, Flick had made it to the jungle island in one piece. The long-reaching peninsulas had saved him just when he thought he would drown. Now he was lying in the sand, relishing each breath of oxygen. His wetsuit felt heavy with water. He wanted to lie here for a while, but he knew the Careers would be coming after him.

He weakly lifted his head and glanced back. All he could see was white fog hanging low over the ocean. With a small whimper, he forced himself to his feet. He had to know Claire was okay.

Each step felt like torture, but he forced himself to move in the direction of the dense jungle. The fog even hung low among the trees, unnerving Flick. He moved cautiously.

"Claire…?" His voice came out as a dry whistle. He smacked his lips, desperately wishing for water. But it had washed away in the storm along with the rest of their meager supplies.

Struck by a sudden idea, Flick approached a plant with large, broad leaves and noticed that they contained many droplets of water. Desperate to quench himself, he tilted the leaf towards him and welcomed the thin stream of water that slid down his throat. He could imagine Claire…perhaps even Astron, berating him, preaching that the plant might be poisonous to touch. But he was too thirsty to care.

Suddenly, a small rustling sound reached his ears. He stopped drinking to listen. Something was moving softly through the undergrowth.

"Claire?" Flick murmured hopefully, his voice stronger after sipping water.

"Flick…?" A weak voice returned. "I'm up here…"

Flick nearly jumped for joy. It was Claire! He looked around wildly for her. He spotted her well hidden in a tree; her body sprawled on a net of branches. She managed a small smile as their eyes met and forced her body to sit up. Surprisingly, she still had her shield with her.

"Thank goodness…" She said, relief shining in her eyes. "I thought you were dead."

Flick approached the bottom of the tree, about to ask how she had managed to get all the way to this island. But then a loud rustling cut him off and another tribute came stumbling out of the jungle.

It was a Career. He was soaking wet and holding two deadly, hooked swords. Flick froze where he was, staring. Claire had fallen silent up in the tree as well. Flick could feel his heart speed up slightly, but other than that he was shockingly unafraid. His mind had instantly accepted his death. He could not hope to fight this Career, nor outrun him. He only hoped his killer wouldn't notice Claire hiding up in the trees.

Ian took a threatening step towards Flick, saying in a light voice, "I'd ask you how you are, but I really don't care."

"Please," Claire's shaking voice stopped him in his tracks.

Ian looked up to see the tiny, dark-skinned girl crouched above him in the tree. She was reaching towards him, her hand visibly shaking.

"Please, you don't have to do this." Claire said, her voice cracking. Tears shone in her dark eyes, but she tried to blink them away.

Ian gritted his teeth as his mind flashbacked to his goodbye with his precious little sister, Opal. She had told him the same thing. He shook off these memories and growled, "Yes I _do_."

"No you don't!" Claire whispered, just loud enough for the two of them to hear, "Please, imagine what your life will be like if you—"

"Claire. It's okay," Flick said, cutting her off. Her righteous sermons would be lost on this Career. He had most likely already killed someone, anyways. He looked Ian in the eye and said in a firm voice, "Just make it quick, please."

Ian's face contorted slightly as if it pained him to hear those words. A long silence stretched between the three of them. Then the Career burst out, "Fine, fine! Just get out of here, will you? You're lucky you were caught by the worst Career in history." He looked away, scowling at a nearby tree trunk.

Flick's eyes lit up with hope. Just the look on his face was enough to make Ian feel a little bit better. _But only a little. _Ian acknowledged, sulking.

With a smile, Flick went to meet Claire who had begun climbing down the tree. Ian was preparing to hurry off when something went whistling past him. There was a sharp gasp.

A knife was sticking out of Flick's back. With the softest of whimpers, he legs gave out from under him and he fell.

Claire bit back a scream. Ian could only stare in shock. He turned to see Meredith slowly making her way out of the jungle cover. She looked awful, with heavy bags under her eyes and a red rash forming on the right side of her face. She glared furiously at Ian.

"Someone has to die, Ian." She said in a deadly tone, approaching him one step at a time until she was right in his face, "There's only one victor. It's time you started learning the rules of this game we're in."

Ian refused to let himself become intimidated. He narrowed his eyes, looking down upon Meredith. Shallow breathing at his feet informed him that Flick was still alive. "So kill him already," He hissed, "I expect you'll be wanting to rack up your kill points."

Meredith's features grew calm in the matter of seconds, as if someone had turned off the switch to her emotions. She blinked slowly and said in a quiet voice, "I believe he asked you for a quick death."

With that, she turned and began to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Ian demanded, amazed by her refusal.

"Zale went running off in another direction. I'm going to see if I can catch him before he gets too far." She melted into the fog before Ian could stop her.

Ian looked back at Flick, very aware that Claire was still watching him from the trees. Flick had been stabbed directly in the spinal cord. He lay on his stomach, his cheek pressed against the dirt. His eyes were bright with pain, his hands twitching pathetically, just like they always did when he was alive.

Ian stepped up to the young boy's body, raising his sword.

"Touch him and I'll kill you." Claire hissed, looking livid. Ian could see the tears running down her face. With only a shield, she was no threat. Besides…it was too late for her little friend.

Without any hesitation, Ian drove the sword into the back of Flick's neck, ensuring an instant death. The sound of the cannon drowned out Claire's scream as she threw herself at the ground, madly swinging her shield. But Ian had already fled into the fog, unwilling to participate in a one-sided fight.

Claire nearly pursued him, but her senses returned in that moment. There were three Careers on this island, two who wouldn't spare her life so easily. She stumbled back towards her fallen ally and fell to her knees beside him.

His entire body was still. His hands, which were always moving and tapping out new rhythms, would never move again.

"Oh Flick…" Claire choked out, crawling over to him and touching his face gently. His gentle brown eyes were blank in death.

A jagged sob ripped its way out of her throat. She gently took his head in her lap, wiping the blood out of his matted hair. Grief overwhelmed her.

Claire held her departed friend in her arms and wept.

* * *

Ian slowly made his way back to the edge of the island to wash his swords. He didn't wait up for the other Careers. He didn't want to face Meredith after she saw him try to let prey escape. He would go back to the island on his own.

As he sat alone by the water, he realized he felt numb inside. Meredith was right. Even if he wasn't cut out for killing, he still had to do it to survive. He felt shameful for trying to let Flick go, but he also felt shameful killing him in the way that he did. He could have at least made it painless for him if he hadn't hesitated.

"What would be really nice is if they all gave us a reason to be pissed off at one another," Ian mused, "If I had a grudge against everyone in the arena, this would be so much easier."

At least he had a few that formed on their own. Frezno would be fun to kill. If he saw Buck again, he wouldn't hold back, not this time. Meredith…he found himself harboring a surprising amount of hatred for her. The way she had spoken to him back there…and how she had left the kill to him when he had never asked for it…

Ian was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the parachute until it gently knocked his elbow. Just the sight of it was enough to lift his spirits. It even came equipped with a tiny, colorful umbrella. It reminded him of the fancy cocktails in District 1.

Smiling, Ian opened the parachute and pulled out a small, clear packet containing a white powder. There was also a tube of salve for his scorpion sting. Two gifts in one.

"About time…" Ian grumbled, pulling out a note from Channa.

It read: _Well done last night. Let's see if you can slip them this._

* * *

Spark took a moment to relax her arms and look around. They were floating somewhere between Greed and Gluttony, lost in the fog. Luckily, they had the coral beneath them to let them know they had not yet gone astray.

"See anything yet, Wiley?" Spark asked softly, casting a backwards glance at her district partner. It felt like they had been paddling forever.

"C…Couldn't tell you…if I had…" Wiley stammered, his voice sounding very strained. His glasses were fogged up, completely obscuring his vision.

Spark felt a flash of frustration. "Wipe your glasses, Wiley." She told him, "You're of no use to us blind."

"T…t…too afraid to move…" Wiley whimpered. His body was completely rigid. He clutched the sides of the boat so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Spark rolled her eyes, deciding that there was no helping him. Just when she was about to call up to Thimble to continue rowing, something hit the side of their boat with a loud thud.

"What is that?" Spark asked sharply.

Wiley didn't respond, remaining where he was. Spark leaned out the side of the boat, craning her neck to get a good look. At the same moment, another projectile flew past her. It only took two seconds to realize what was happening.

"Careers!"

"AHH!" Despite his previous words, Wiley suddenly flattened himself to the floor of the canoe.

The silhouette of another canoe began to appear among the shapeless fog. Two figures were paddling it. Upon drawing closer, one rose up and aimed her weapon. It was Sagitta.

Spark nearly went numb with fear, but a shout from Thimble reminded her that she was in control of the canoe. Summoning all of her strength, she began to help propel the boat through the water.

"Here, I can help!" Al said, offering to take the paddle from the weaker Thimble.

"I got this!" She snapped, shouldering him aside, "Duck down and make sure an arrow doesn't hit that backpack of yours!"

After a small hesitation, Al obeyed and got down.

Jade was doing her best to match the other alliance's power, digging the oar into the water with all of her might. Sagitta, intent on taking a life, kept rising to her feet and taking a wild shot at the alliance. Jade was growing increasingly frustrated with her failed hits and the little help she was when it came to rowing. The canoe's course was wavering. The other alliance was pulling away…

"They're getting away!" Jade panted, "Help me—"

But Sagitta ignored Jade and released another arrow into the mist. This time, her aim was true. A shrill scream pierced the air.

"You got one!" Jade exclaimed, straining to see through the fog. From the sound of it, she must have hit one of the girls.

Smirking, Sagitta began to string another arrow. But then the canoe suddenly jerked beneath her, nearly throwing her overboard. She quickly regained her balance and sat down before the canoe could capsize.

"What happened?!" She demanded, shooting an accusing glare back at Jade.

The canoe had drifted too close to a tall clump of coral, beaching the front half. It was now at an angle and refused to move.

Jade felt her temper flare up. "It's not _my _fault I can't see where we're going! Maybe if you were helping me control the canoe, this wouldn't have happened!"

Sagitta scowled, "In case you didn't notice, I was busy dealing with the other tributes."

With a sigh, Jade decided that arguing was merely a waste of time. She forced a paddle back into Sagitta's hand and told her, "Okay, don't touch the coral and see if you can shove us back into the water with this. We might have fallen behind, but at least you got one. I bet you anything they'll be docking at the next island over."

"Fine." Sagitta said simply. She took the paddle and used it to pry the canoe off the coral, one inch at a time.

Suddenly, a cannon went off.

Jade and Sagitta looked at one another, wide-eyed. A second later, they were sharing a malicious smirk.

Jade wagged a finger and said in a singsong voice, "One down…"


	30. Letting Go

**Animal Crossing New Leaf comes out today, my job starts tomorrow, and I'm really hyped about my upcoming story so...see you in another life, brotha. JK JK I can totally make time for all of my many obsessions. It's a gift. **

**I have a fun question for you, but you'll have to answer in a review since there would be far too many options in the poll. If the three of my Hunger Games were turned into movies, which character roles would you audition for and why? Pick one from each Games. Of course you'd have to take gender/appearance/etc. into regard, along with what scenes you'd be willing to do. Pick one from each Games! :D**

**As for me…hmm, it's tough. I'd say Julia, Adrenaline, and Spark. I think I could be a good Claire, but unfortunately, I'm a white girl. I think I'd be able to pull off Spark the best, though the other two would be fun. How bout you?**

Thimble clenched her teeth, a high-pitched keening emanating from the back of her throat. She could feel her eyes overflowing with unwanted tears at the sight of her left hand. There was an arrow deeply embedded into it, just below her thumb. It hurt more than anything in the world.

Her breaths began coming faster as her body threatened to start hyperventilating. Suddenly hands grabbed her own. Thimble let out another cry of pain.

"It's okay, you're okay." Al said, squeezing her good hand. "You're gonna be fine, kid." He gently took the paddle from her and faced back to the front, beginning to paddle despite the dynamite on his back.

Thimble just gripped her hand, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent any more tears. She held onto Al's words. _I'm okay, I'm okay…_

They finally made it to the next island.

"Oh my gosh! Thimble, are you okay?" Spark asked, leaping out of the canoe.

Al carefully helped Thimble out of the canoe, taking slow steps. She had calmed down considerably, but her hand was bleeding heavily. At the sight of it, Spark blanched.

"Wiley, hide the canoe, the Careers might still be on our tail." Al said quickly, "Just leave the dynamite in it for now, we'll be sticking nearby."

Wiley was only too glad to leave the backpacks in the canoe. Once they were put away, he began to drag the boat through the sand, towards the cover of the forest. Spark stood to the side, pale and useless.

"Sparky!" Al said, snapping his fingers.

"S-Sorry, what?" She said, biting her lip and avoiding the sight of Thimble's wound.

"Do you know how to treat an injury like this?"

"She better…" Thimble mumbled, trying to appear as if she wasn't in so much pain. But her hand was throbbing madly. She just wanted to cut it off and be done with the agony. Not that doing such a thing would help…

"Right!" Spark said, getting down to business. "Let's find somewhere safe to hide. Al, I'm going to have to ask you to remove the arrowhead and block the blood flow instantly. I'll gather honey as antiseptic after I help Wiley with the canoe; I'm pretty sure there are some beehives around here."

Al nodded briskly. "Good luck."

Once they found a safe place, Al had Thimble sit down and lightly took her hands in his own. "Did it shatter your bone?" He asked, looking more serious than he ever had.

Thimble bit her lip as more tears formed. "How should I know?" She snapped, feeling like some fragile little kid, "C…Can't you just leave the arrow in?"

"It'll get infected." Al told her. "I promise I'll make it quick, okay?"

Thimble opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, Al ripped the arrow out in one swift motion. Thimble shrieked before she could stop herself and reflexively lashed out at Al, smacking his face with the heel of her palm. But then Al was already pressing a bandage to it, blocking the blood flow. It still hurt so bad that the pain clawed up her arm. She forced herself to take deep breaths.

With a ragged sigh, Thimble wiped at her watery eyes. "Talk about something."

"Wha?" Al just stared at her. The spot Thimble had hit, just above his eye, was stinging. But both of his hands were occupied pressing the bandage to her wound.

"To take my mind off the pain," Thimble said through gritted teeth, "You can't ever seem to shut up, so why don't you put that talent to good use?"

"Uhh…I don't know. What would you like to talk about?"

"Great job." Thimble hissed sarcastically, "The one time I give you a free pass and you don't take it. Where's Wiley?"

As if on cue, Wiley appeared, completely out of breath. His eyes widened dramatically at the sight of Thimble. "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry that happened to you…that looks like it _really _hurts."

"That's because it does!" Thimble said heatedly, but she was glad to have the two boys serving as distractions. "Spark better get here soon!"

"Don't you worry, love," Wiley said, a steely glint coming into his eyes. "Those Careers don't know about the ace up our sleeves! In no time at all, they'll be at our mercy. And we don't have any of that, now do we?"

"No sir, we do not!" Al agreed, wagging his finger.

"Right. So that means they're at our nothing! …They're at our lack of mercy!" Wiley declared, trying to look tough. But as soon as footsteps crunching through the undergrowth reached their ears, he returned to his usual frightened expression.

It was only Spark. She had returned with the honey. As soon as they applied it, she said in a rushed voice, "Come on, the Careers might be here any minute. We've got to hide."

* * *

After successfully coping with being stranded, Jade and Sagitta finally made it to the forested island. Sagitta was feeling especially proud that she had managed to shoot down one tribute. If they didn't manage to find them, then this trip wasn't a total lost. They scoured the beach, but the tributes had disappeared.

"They can't have gotten far…" Jade said quietly, taking cautious steps towards the trees, "I'm just nervous about what we saw on the first day."

"We can handle it." Sagitta said, high on her power trip. She bravely led the way into the woods. "Let's get some food while we're here."

They didn't have to go far to find one of the randomly scattered fruit trees. Jade was fast on her feet, climbing up and gathering a manageable amount of kiwis and bananas. As much as she wanted to make a kill, she knew Sagitta would shoot down any tribute before she could approach them with her spear.

"I hear something!" Sagitta murmured, from her position on the ground.

Jade felt a flash of excitement and scrambled down to join her. "The tributes?" She asked.

Sagitta didn't respond, listening intently. No, whatever was coming sounded…bigger. And it was headed straight for them.

A low growl reached their ears. The two Careers whipped around to see a gigantic figure emerging from the fog. It was an enormous, black-pelted dog with two heads. Its eyes were glaring, its hackles rising at the sight of its prey. One step at a time, it prowled towards them. This was the very thing they had feared.

Jade opened her mouth and screamed. With a snarl, the muttation pounced. But the two Careers were already off and running with long strides. Jade and Sagitta were of equal speed, easily keeping pace with one another. They sprinted straight back to the canoe, Cerberus directly on their heels, howling with rage.

Their feet slipped in the sand, but they threw themselves at the canoe, gasping for breath. Jade leaped in without a second thought, but Sagitta was smart enough to push it back into the water. With adrenaline rushing through her body, it was a simple feat.

Cerberus came flying out of the woods just as they entered the water. They forced themselves to paddle with all their might. Refusing to give up, Cerberus splashed into the ocean after them. One of the heads lunged for Jade. She turned around smacked the dog right in the face with her paddle. It yelped. The other head tried to snatch the paddle in its jaws, but a swell carried the two Careers out of reach.

The hound tried to paddle after them, lifting its long necks high out of the water. But it didn't make it very far—after a few seconds, Cerberus turned around and returned to its island.

Jade kept casting nervous glances back. Cerberus was standing on shore, ears pricked, coat dripping wet. It continued to watch their escape. One head gave a frustrated bark.

"That was close." Sagitta said softly, from the front of the canoe, "At least we got one of them."

"Right." Jade agreed breathlessly. She looked behind her once more, but Cerberus had gone.

* * *

Claire ran aimlessly through the jungle, blinded by her tears. Sobs relentlessly wracked her body until she thought they would never stop. She could hear the hovercraft come for Flick. They would take his body back to the Capitol and later on, District 8. His family would mourn him. His poor sister…

_Flick didn't deserve death. He was so young, so innocent. Who could ever bring themselves to hurt someone like him?_

The image of that knife flying into his back replayed over and over in her mind. Claire nearly screamed to force it away. She threw her arms out, shoving aside all sorts of plants, leaving a trail that would be too easy for another tribute to follow. But she couldn't bring herself to care.

"HEY-!"

With a gasp, she ran headlong into another tribute. The two of them crashed heavily to the ground. A loud curse informed her that she had run into her district partner a second time.

"Ah, dang it Claire. Why're you runnin' through the jungle like some kinda…hey, what's wrong?" Buck's eyes went wide with concern.

Claire was still sobbing uncontrollably. She just sat on top of Buck in a miserable heap, tears flowing freely down her face. He wiggled out from under her and placed large hands on her frail shoulders.

"What happened?" He asked in the kindest voice Claire had ever heard him use.

Claire finally found herself able to calm down. She took a few trembling breaths. "It's Flick." She choked out, "He's…dead." She buried her head into her hands, crying so hard her stomach hurt. It was painful to acknowledge.

With a heavy sigh, Buck pulled Claire into an unexpected hug that squeezed the breath right out of her. "I'm sorry that happened." He mumbled, his expression hard. His gestures were comforting, but his mind was elsewhere. It was back in the Capitol, imagining all of the people who were taking this as some form of entertainment. Rage boiled in his stomach.

This time, Claire really did manage to gather herself. She pulled away from Buck, wiping at her tearstained face. "I'm sorry," She sniffled, "I'll go now."

"Go?" Buck echoed, surprised.

Claire nodded. "Yeah…I know what you think of me."

Buck scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Oh. That's a shame. I was kinda hopin' you'd…stay."

Claire just stared at him, her sad expression unchanging. "Really?"

Buck nodded, feeling terrible on the inside. He was partially doing this for his own survival, and it made him feel awful. But he was also doing it because these past few days had been lonely. And Claire had lost her ally…they needed each other.

A ghost of a smile graced Claire's lips. "Thank you, Buck." She murmured.

"Yeah, yeah…" He said, avoiding her eyes, "I got a little bit of food and water if yer in need. A raft, too."

"That sounds great." She said quietly.

Buck didn't know what else to say. There really wasn't anything to say, after what Claire had been through. In sorrowful silence, the united District 10 tributes slowly made their way back to camp.

* * *

When Jade and Sagitta returned to camp, they found Ian among the gravestones, receiving counseling from the Jabberjays. As they came walking up, District 4 appeared from the other direction, dragging their steps. Both of them looked thinner than usual.

"Hey guys!" Jade greeted enthusiastically, trotting up to her teammates, "I brought a little more food to add to our stash. Are you up to eating?"

"I'm starving," Zale said, hungrily eyeing the fruit in her arms.

"It might not be safe…" Meredith warned, but Zale was beyond caring.

"The boar was what probably made us sick last night, we must have undercooked it," He scoffed, helping himself.

Meredith just sighed and slowly sat down, physically drained. If Zale didn't get sick, then it'd be safe to eat. She scratched at a fluid-filled lump that had formed on her palm.

Jade stood nearby, the only tribute that appeared to be excited. "Guess what!" She burst out, unable to contain the good news any longer; "Sagitta took out someone from that alliance that stole the canoe! Either the District 3 or District 8 girl."

Sagitta nodded wordlessly. But her smug expression betrayed her pride.

"Really?" Meredith said, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, "…I didn't hear a cannon."

Jade shot Meredith a withering look. "How could you not? They're kind of hard to miss!"

"There was only one cannon," Ian spoke up, "And it was for the District 8 boy. I killed him myself."

Meredith nodded in confirmation.

Jade and Sagitta exchanged a stunned stare.

"At least you wounded one." Meredith sighed. "Right? So we can afford to rest and gain our strength back."

Sagitta's face twisted into a scowl. "Awesome." She growled sarcastically, plopping down beside the others.

They all shared a meal of fruit that did nothing to heal their aching bellies. The water, at least, brought them back from the brink of dehydration. At the end, they passed the water bottles off to Ian for him to refill at the fruit island. He didn't put up much of an argument. His thoughts seemed to be elsewhere, even when they warned him about Cerberus.

Meredith had something on her mind. She quickly addressed Ian before he could leave. "So, what did you receive for a sponsor?"

He froze where he was, blinking. An amused grin appeared on his face. "Excuse me? I wasn't sponsored anything."

"Don't lie. We saw you." Zale said flatly, sitting a few yards away.

Meredith nodded. They had stepped out of the jungle just in time to see him receive a parachute. They hadn't approached him, wondering if he would say anything on his own.

Ian's grin was immediately replaced by a glare. "Look. It was sponsored to me so it's mine. I refuse to share!"

"You should share with your alliance!" Meredith said, slowly rising to her feet. She placed a hand on a gravestone to steady herself.

"Says who?" Ian snapped, "A kind Capitolite spent this money to benefit me. I'm sure it was never their intention to see the rest of you mooch off me!"

"Mooch!" Meredith said, forcing a dry laugh, "That's rich. You've done nothing but mooch off our alliance this entire time. Now show us what you were sponsored or else we can no longer trust you."

"I've pulled my weight—" Ian shot back, readying himself for an explosive argument.

But Jade reached out and touched his arm. "Just show us, Ian." She said quietly, curious to know what he was hiding. Besides, if this continued, things could get ugly. Meredith would sink a knife into Ian before he could even clear the distance between them.

Luckily, Ian calmed down. He reached into his pouch and pulled out the salve. "For my scorpion sting…" He mumbled grudgingly.

Meredith's eyes widened. Sagitta and Zale were suddenly on their feet as well, looking at the gift in awe. "That could help heal our rashes!"

"And perhaps my wound." Zale considered, running a hand along his partially healed gash.

The salve was in the rest of the alliance's hands before Ian could stop them. "Use it sparingly…" He pleaded, as they rubbed the soothing cream on their hands. No one listened. With a flash of frustration, Ian turned and began stamping down the hill.

"Ian, wait. Where are you going?" Jade said, beginning to follow.

"To get water, remember?" He said, more harshly than he intended. "Because I'm just a mooch that can't pull my weight around here!"

"Don't listen to Meredith!" Jade growled.

Ian halted and looked away, feeling disgruntled. "Go back. I'll do this on my own."

"Fine," Jade agreed, relieved that she wouldn't be venturing back to that island, "But be careful, okay?" When Ian didn't respond, she went on to say, "You know, we could leave the alliance right now. Every day I expect tensions to explode. They never quite make it there, but I know we're approaching the time when they will."

Ian acknowledged Jade's words. "You're right." He said, smirking, "But if it's all right with you…I'd like to stay with them one more night."

Jade looked at Ian suspiciously, hoping he wasn't planning anything stupid. "Okay." She agreed reluctantly.

Ian patted her head. "Good girl."

"Don't do that," Jade said, pulling away and trying to hide her red cheeks.

But Ian had already gone on his way.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by slowly. The tributes' spirits were heavy mainly due to the unrelenting white fog that obscured their vision. The Careers regained their strength on Pride while the Dynamite Alliance remained on Gluttony, suspending their plans for another day. District 10 shared one another's company on Envy's beach, recounting their adventures one bit at a time.

By evening, the fog had cleared up considerably so that the tributes could view their departed competitors in the sky. There would only be one face to appear this night.

Flick, with his freckled face and out-of-control hair. His usual faraway look on his face. He was truly gone.

Claire had completely cried herself out, but she could feel fresh tears forming at the sight of him. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to look any longer. At the same time, she recalled her own advice.

_I've taken the time to grieve him… _She thought, chin trembling, _now it's time to let him go._

When Claire opened her eyes, his picture was gone and the sky was dark. She swallowed her tears and looked at Buck. He was lazing in the sand, his hands tucked behind his head. He offered her a dimpled grin.

"All better?"

Claire glared at him. "Of course not. And I never will be!"

"Sure, sure, whatever you say." Buck sighed, rolling over on his side, "Now keep watch for me, will ya? Haven't been able to get a good sleep in forever with all these critters havin' it in fer me…"

Claire acknowledged that the kind and understanding Buck who hugged her had a short lifespan. The snarky, immoral ruffian was back. At least he had the sense to not take any jabs at her fallen ally. She would have smacked him with her shield if he did.

For a long time, Claire sat in the sand, watching the ocean's waves lap the shore. They were so constant. The sound they produced was soothing on the ears. They aligned well with Buck's slow breathing. She looked at her ally. His eyes were closed…he appeared to be asleep.

Quietly, Claire rose to her feet and approached Buck's small pile of supplies. They rested inside the pink blow-up raft he had acquired near the beginning of the Games. It seemed like he had attempted to smear the raft with mud, but it washed off. At least no one would be able to spot it in the dark.

She began to drag the raft towards the sea. It made a light scraping sound against the sand. Claire shot quick glances to see if Buck heard, but he remained dozing in the sand. She speedily reached the water and leaped into the raft.

"I'm sorry, Buck." She whispered tearfully, "But I can't watch you die. Not after losing Flick."

Using a large piece of driftwood, Claire steered the raft towards the volcanic island and allowed it to float along once it reached the current. With a sigh, Claire settled down and enjoyed the bobbing motion of the vessel on the waves.

There was a loud grunt and a hand suddenly appeared at the edge of the raft. Claire let out a short scream of surprise. Buck's glaring face appeared as he hauled himself over the side of the boat. He flung himself at Claire with an angry growl. She threw up her shield, but his weight bowled her over.

The strong Tenderloin-native easily pinned the smaller girl under him. For a moment, Claire felt terrified for her life. Furious lines were etched into Buck's face. She fully believed he was going to kill her for this.

But then a gleam of amusement flashed in his eyes and his face broke out into a triumphant smirk. "Well, well, well." He said slowly, "Look what we have here. Nice try, Saint Claire."

"Get off of me!" Claire grunted, struggling to extricate herself from under him. She was unsuccessful.

Buck was milking the situation for all it was worth. "C'mon, now. Didn't anyone ever tell you stealin's a sin? What about yer strict moral code?"

"Get. Off." Claire said ferociously, spitting out each word.

Buck snorted. "All right, fine. But y'know, when I said I had food, water, and a raft _if yer in need_, I didn't mean they were up for grabs." With a chuckle, Buck sat back so Claire could regain her breath. Then, grimacing, he rolled up his pant leg to check on his injury. It was still red and painful to look at. For the first time, Claire noticed his wound.

Guilt crashed down onto her conscience. "I'm sorry!" She burst out, completely sincere, "I know I shouldn't have done that! I was just scared—I just wasn't thinking, I thought you were going to leave me—"

"Shut it!" Buck said, raising a hand for silence, "I don't care bout yer countless excuses. But we're in an alliance now, ya hear? You do that again and you won't be let off so easy."

"I understand," Claire said weakly, still feeling awful for her rash decision, "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." Buck said, looking around, "Now where were you plannin' on takin' this thing? The volcano?"

"I don't know," Claire admitted, "I guess so…"

"Fine by me," Buck decided, much to Claire's surprise, "I've had enough of the jungle of mystery for one lifetime."

* * *

Ian's journey was a safe one. He encountered no tributes and no mutts. He returned to the Career camp with the three water bottles. When he came back, it was dark, and he was surprised to find the Careers already snoozing.

Jade was there to meet him. "I think they're still kind of weak from last night." She whispered, "Zale fell asleep and before I knew it, everyone else was out. Is one of those for me?" She reached for a bottle, but Ian flinched away at the movement. Jade immediately felt suspicious.

"Yes," Ian said, recovering quickly, handing her a bottle, "This one's for you and this one's for me. This last one…is for whichever one of our friends is the thirstiest." He decided, smiling down at the last container.

Jade just stared at him, calculating his words. "Okay." She said, accepting the water without any argument, "So do you want to keep watch or should I?"

"You do it." Ian said instantly, pushing past his ex, "I'm tired."

Jade suppressed an angry sigh. "I'm tired too, Ian."

"Then why did you give me the option?"

"I'll do it." A new voice spoke up. They both looked to see Sagitta glaring at them from the ground. "So stop bickering. You're going to wake everyone up."

Despite her eyes being closed, Meredith had smashed her hands over her ears, letting them know that they already had. Ian cursed inwardly, hoping they hadn't heard the beginning of his conversation with Jade.

If they had, no one said anything. Sagitta got to her feet and grabbed her bow. Her hands were feeling much better after using Ian's salve. She left her allies without another word and went to her post. Despite her dry throat, she didn't ask for a drink. She had heard their suspicious conversation.

With a sigh, Sagitta took a seat in the grass further down the hill, scanning the dark waters for any sign of an approaching tribute. Honestly, she didn't think anybody that was left posed much of a threat. They were all a bunch of pansies. The real threat…was right up on the hill.

Her own alliance.

Sagitta tried to ignore the foreboding she felt and occupied herself with counting her remaining arrows. Eight gone. Seven left. Not bad, but not good either. Every single one was precious. And she would soon need them now more than ever...because she was leaving. She had come to the decision last night, while she choked on her own stomach fluids. She could stay here no longer. She knew District 1 was poisoning their food and now their water. They were probably the cause of this strange rash too. But instead of confronting them about it, Sagitta had come to the conclusion that she should just leave without a word.

_Like a coward, _Her mentor from home would say.

But better to be a coward than a corpse.

Summoning her courage, Sagitta stood up and continued further down the hill. She would not be taking any supplies or the canoe. The Careers wouldn't be as desperate to hunt her down if she left them these precious necessities. For now, she would head back to the Cornucopia and stay there for the night. In the morning, she would go to the island with all of the food.

Despite her lack of swimming skills, Sagitta was unafraid to enter the ocean. She was strong. She had what it took to get to her destination.

An hour passed. The Careers slept on without a guard.

Silently, a parachute floated down from the sky, landing with precision on Meredith's stomach. She was instantly awake, whipping a knife out of her vest in one quick movement. When she saw the container, she immediately calmed down. Of course her aunt would have wanted to sponsor her while everyone was asleep or else they'd try and mooch off her. She secretly hoped it was food or water. Her throat was so dry it hurt.

Meredith silently opened the package, taking her time. Inside was a small bottle labeled _Antidote._

"A little late, isn't it?" She mumbled. That awful sickness was already a thing of the past. But it was still a kind gift, nevertheless. It might come in handy later on. So she said a quiet thank you to her sponsor and quickly hid the antidote inside her vest, so that no one else may take it from her.

* * *

_Boom._

Zale snapped awake, looking around groggily. _Was that a cannon? _He felt like he was in some sort of haze. He looked at the sleeping forms of his companions, dark shapes spread out beside him. One was missing, keeping guard down the hill.

"Did someone die?" A voice whispered.

Ian.

Zale nodded. "I wonder what could have happened…maybe we'll find out tomorrow."

He suddenly realized how dry his throat was. He noticed a water bottle lying near him. He snatched it up and gulped down the few drops it had to spare. Of course it wasn't enough to quench him.

"I wish someone would sponsor us some food or water," Zale murmured, scratching his rash, "We could focus on taking down tributes then."

Ian gave a sleepy acknowledgement, having already closed his eyes. Zale lowered his head in the grass, sighing. In no time at all, he had drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep…

**RIP Flick. When I started approaching his death, I got a little bit sad and I was like nooo I'm not supposed to have emotions until later. :( He was a real sweetie, and I think his death was one of the saddest yet. His ADD tendencies and love for the piano were details that brought him to life and made him all the more loveable. As for his family…poor Astron. Those two had one of the strongest sibling relationships and I enjoyed writing it. But now Flick can be with his mother. **

**For the people that couldn't figure it out: the cannon at the end of the last chapter belonged to Flick. There are often parts where I have to backpedal to cover different things going on at the same time. The timing of Flick's death coincided with the Career girls' attack on the Dynamite Alliance. Pats all around to the people who realized it! :)  
**


	31. Beautiful Morning

**This chapter is somewhat short, but I wanted to end it on a specific note. Look forward to the next chapter because there's some serious shiz going down!**

**Here are the latest poll results by the way! Most of you seem to prefer Pride, either you're an awesome Career who can afford to stay out in the open or you just have a thing for Jabberjays and graveyards. There are also a lot of people here who like food. No one wants to be on Envy...smart choice.  
**

**1st Pride with 6 votes**

**2nd Gluttony with 5 votes**

**3rd Sloth and Greed with 3 votes**

**4th Wrath and Lust with 1 vote**

**5th Envy with 0 votes**

**There's a new one up: who you're rooting for. Of course this doesn't change anything because I could care less about what YOU want-/shot/ …Let me try that again. It doesn't change anything because the victor was decided ages ago. Your favorite character is probably going to wind up dead, given the odds.  
**

**On a brighter note, Charmjinxed, Zale's creator, is starting her very own SYOT! It looks very promising so make sure to stop on by and submit a character when you're done reading this chapter. ^_^ I submitted Rick so it should be a fun ride!  
**

Someone was laughing.

Zale found he could barely force his eyes open. His head felt unbearably heavy, so heavy he could hardly lift it. With a small groan, he slowly forced himself to sit up. His head was spinning.

The laughter suddenly broke off into a round of sobbing. Confused, Zale turned his head to see a Jabberjay with its beak wide open. His vision blurred and he couldn't make out the name of the stone it was sitting on.

The other Jabberjays slowly began to wake and say their learned quotes. He was getting pretty tired of hearing them.

"Good morning, Zale." Jade said with a luxurious stretch, "Are you okay? You look pale."

"I'm fine." Zale lied. He looked to Meredith, who was laid out next to him. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully. She often had trouble, so it was nice to see her finally getting some well-deserved rest.

"Has anyone seen Sagitta?" Ian wondered, scanning the hillside, "She never switched off with anyone for guard, did she?"

Jade's eyes widened as she contemplated Ian's observance. "No, I don't think she did. You don't think she left us, do you…?"

Zale rose to his feet, grimacing as pain caused his stomach to churn. Crossing his fingers that he hadn't contracted the flu, he slowly approached their dwindling pile of fruit. Before he had reached it, a Jabberjay fluttered over and perched on top of it.

Zale's grip tightened on his knives. "Stupid thing…" He grunted, preparing to stab it.

"Don't think you have everyone figured out as soon as you lay eyes on them." The bird warned in an incredibly familiar voice.

Zale froze where he was. "Wh…What?"

The Jabberjay ruffled its feathers slightly, cocking its head at Zale. "If I die, I could care less who wins."

"Meredith?" Jade whispered, standing with Ian. The two of them looked to their ally, who was still sleeping peacefully in the grass.

"Meredith!" Zale shouted, throwing down his knives and rushing to her side. He knelt beside her and shook her shoulders. "Mere, wake up. C'mon, it's morning!"

She didn't respond. Her body was completely limp, her eyes closed…

"Meredith, wake up!" Zale said desperately, pleading with her, "No way, she can't be dead. People don't just die! Not like this!"

Something fell out of Meredith's vest. Zale picked it up and tried to focus his eyes on it. It was a small bottle of antidote, but it had not been used. The cogs began to turn in his head. _People do die like this…if they've been poisoned…_

"Well done, Ian." Meredith's quiet voice reached his ears. Hope rose in Zale's chest for a fleeting moment. But it was just the Jabberjay, which had remained nearby. "Your turn, Zale." It told him.

Zale shot to his feet and stumbled back a few steps, hardly daring to believe it. The world was tilting violently around him. "You!" He declared, rounding on Ian, "You did this!"

Ian held up his swords defensively. "Of course not! Where's Sagitta? _She _must have done this!"

"You liar! You're lying, you're always lying!" Zale raged, taking a furious step towards the taller Career. But he couldn't fight the sickness any longer. He suddenly crumpled to his knees, coughing and gasping for air. Pain wracked his body and he struggled to empty the contents of his stomach in order to relieve it. But nothing came up.

While Zale dealt with this, Jade grabbed Ian and pulled him aside.

"How did you acquire poison in the arena?" She hissed.

Ian flashed her an irresistible smirk. "The jungle is full of mysteries."

Jade glared at him, waiting for the truth.

A few more seconds and he caved. "I was sponsored arsenic powder." He admitted, blowing at a stray strand of hair in his face, "You're not going to tell Zale, are you?"

"Of course not!" Jade whispered quickly, "I just want to make sure you aren't planning to poison me!"

"In case you haven't noticed, I haven't touched you." Ian said, glancing over Jade's shoulder to see Zale on his feet, staggering towards them. "Now shut your pretty little mouth. Zale's coming."

Without warning, Ian grabbed Jade and pulled her to him in a tight embrace.

_What the-?!_

"There, there!" Ian sighed dramatically, stroking Jade's hair, "I know you're upset, but it's the way things have to be, Jade! This is the Hunger Games, after all."

Jade just stiffened in Ian's grip, gritting her teeth and bearing it.

Zale stared at the two of them, his face ashen. He was visibly trembling. "Nobody just dies like that." He murmured once more. But all of his ferocity appeared to have evaporated.

"It's the Hunger Games, my friend!" Ian said, shoving Jade away and going in to give Zale a rough pat on the shoulder. At Ian's touch, he once again crumpled to the ground.

"Zale!" Jade gasped.

For some reason, Ian decided to grab her again and hold her close. "No, don't cry anymore, Jade!" He shouted, "I can't bear to see you sad! Don't you worry, we'll take good care of Zale from here on out." Suddenly, Ian lowered his voice and buried his lips into Jade's hair, right by her ear so that only she could hear. "By the way, wash those knives of yours off before you take them back. I brushed poison oak on everyone's weapons except ours. You're welcome."

* * *

_Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day. _Sagitta thought, stepping out of the pirate ship and inhaling the salty air. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, with a few clouds drifting lazily along. Despite her growling stomach, Sagitta felt like a million bucks.

It was so nice to not have those other Careers dictating her actions. Especially Ian, with his constant barrage of flirtations and other idiotic gestures. She half-wished she shot an arrow into his skull before escaping, but an immediate cannon would have given her away. Two years ago, the District 2 female had tried the very same stunt and wound up facing repercussions for her actions.

Feeling renewed, Sagitta decided to head to the food island. When she reached the edge of the water, she remembered the fire coral lying just below the surface.

_Looks like I'll be taking the long way around. _She thought resolutely.

* * *

Today was the perfect day to put the plan in motion. Yes, the Dynamite Alliance no longer had fog as a cover, but they needed the sun for this operation. All roles had been decided.

Wiley was going to be the one to light the fuse. He would be nearest to the canoe, at the end of the long line. Thimble would be stationed at the top of the island, by the crater. She would give the signal to Wiley when it was time to go. Spark needed to take some measurements when they arrived and work out the distance along with how fast the fuse would burn. She was looking forward to putting her math skills to use. Aside from that, she and Al would be acting as the bait. They would lure the Careers to the island.

With this plan in mind, they rowed in silence. Their stomachs growled, unsatisfied with the food from Gluttony, but they knew it would still give them strength. Thimble took it easy, with a pack of dynamite on her back. She had switched off with Wiley due to her injury; he was only too happy to comply. Now she sat in the back with Spark in front of her. Al and Wiley were up front.

The four of them made it past Pride, unseen. With Envy in between them and the Careers, they could breathe easier. Nothing could be heard except the calming swish of the paddles through water.

As the towering spires of Wrath came into view, Wiley began to have second thoughts. He spoke up, without looking back, "I've been thinking…"

"That's dangerous." Thimble snorted.

Wiley ignored her and went on, "If you've got any reservations, whatsoever, about this plan…now would be a tremendous time to voice them. Right now."

No one said anything for a long moment. A minute of silence passed.

Wiley whipped around, his eyes wide and desperate. "Okay!" He burst out, "I'm gonna lay my cards on the table: I don't wanna do it! Please don't make me do it! Just—turn the boat around and drop me off at this island, I'll wait for you here—"

"Wiley," Spark said in a calm, slow voice that contrasted his own, "This was your idea in the first place."

Wiley gave a high-pitched laugh. "Oh yeah, you're right, you're right. Completely forgot. Silly me. Ahh…" He turned back around and continued paddling.

More silence. Anticipation of what was to come hung over this alliance like a cloud. Their eyes were focused on the looming island before them, on that thin curl of smoke that rose up from it. Would a bundle of dynamite really be enough to set it off…?

"AH!" Wiley shouted, making everyone jump. "Umm…don't panic, everyone. Don't panic. I-I just looked down, I do not recommend it."

Of course, everyone peered over the side of the boat.

"Whoa…" Al whistled, "Anyone hungry for fish?"

The surface of the water was teeming with large, mud-colored eels. They swarmed around the canoe, brushing it with their slippery bodies. The boat swayed slightly in the water. If one listened hard enough, they could hear the scrape of teeth on their vessel.

"Keep going, just keep going…" Spark whispered, horrified that they would become a meal before even making it to their destination. "It isn't much farther. We'll be fine." She stuck her paddle into the water with extra force, making sure to smack around a few eels as she rowed.

Everyone else kept their eyes fixed on their destination, pretending there were no muttations set on devouring them. They were almost there…it was almost time…and with luck, the Career pack would be obliterated by the end of the day.

* * *

Buck and Claire were on the volcanic island at the moment, having spent the night there together. A blessing came in the form of a parachute, as Buck had finally be sponsored medicine for his wound. Hopefully, it would ward off infection. But the fact remained: they had no food or water. Now, they were attempting to work their way back around to one of the islands that contained food. Claire had warned Buck of Cerberus and Buck told Claire that the pirate ship might be emptied, so they were taking a huge gamble. But when Buck spotted an alliance of four docking at the base of the island, he suddenly had a change of heart.

"Wait," He hissed to Claire, crouching low among the boulders. His feet were throbbing on the hot surface beneath him, but excitement replaced any pain he felt. "Let's wait till they move off and loot their canoe."

"Buck, that's not very—"

"Don't you lecture me bout stealin', you did it to me last night."

Claire shut her mouth, blushing. He was right. She was being hypocritical. So she dropped the subject and ducked down beside him, keeping a watchful eye on their targets. Two tributes carried backpacks, hopefully crammed with food. Claire saw the littlest one, Thimble, holding a hatchet in her hands. A moment later, she set it in the canoe.

_Now why would she just leave her hatchet behind…? _Claire wondered.

Buck saw the movement and grinned. "Sweet. I've been wantin' a weapon. As soon as they move off, let's go in and grab it. Maybe we can sink their canoe while we're at it. Always a good idea to sabotage your competition."

Claire didn't respond. She was looking at the tallest member of the alliance, the boy from District 3. He seemed to be looking in their direction. She could have sworn he was looking right at her. "Buck…I think that one sees us."

Buck tensed slightly, eyeing Wiley nervously. "Nah, it just _looks _like he's lookin' right at us. There's no way he spotted us…"

Suddenly, Wiley raised an arm and started waving at them.

"I'm pretty sure he sees us." Claire mumbled.

"Hello!" Wiley called cheerfully.

His three allies froze, looking around frantically. "Wiley!" Spark hissed, "Who are you talking to?!"

"District 10 is over there, watching us." He said simply. Everyone looked to see the two tributes hiding among the rocks, the tops of their heads barely visible. Realizing the jig was up, Buck and Claire rose to their feet.

The Dynamite Alliance approached District 10 warily. Unarmed and outnumbered, Buck and Claire could only prepare themselves to sprint away. But the other alliance didn't appear extremely hostile. Thimble quietly hid behind Al, drawing comfort from his presence and preparing to bolt if need be.

"Hey, man," Al said to Buck, looking a bit put out, "Thanks for ditching me on Gluttony. I really appreciate it."

"Gluttony?" Buck echoed, crinkling his brow.

"Each island represents a deadly sin! This one's Wrath—"

Spark grabbed Wiley in a headlock and slapped a hand over his mouth before he could spill all of their information or invite District 10 to join their alliance.

Buck and Claire exchanged a wondering glance. That was certainly an interesting bit of knowledge.

"Well, at least you found yerself another alliance, right?" Buck said, turning back to address Al.

The younger boy still looked disgruntled. Nevertheless, he gave a light sigh and said, "Yeah, no complaining here."

Thimble stood quietly throughout the conversation, itching to run back to the canoe and grab her hatchet. Only when Buck asked what was in the bags did she finally speak up. "Why don't you stick around and find out?" She challenged in the sweetest voice she could muster.

Buck eyed her suspiciously. "Let's get out of here," He told Claire, "These guys are plannin' somethin'."

"Stick around and find out." Thimble repeated, offering Buck an angelic smile.

He answered with a scowl and began backing away. Claire followed him. But the two had nothing to fear, anyways. The larger alliance allowed them to retreat to their raft without any arguments.

"You shouldn't have said anything." Spark sighed, letting go of Wiley and leading the way up the side of the volcano.

"They were probably going to leave anyways," Thimble pointed out defensively.

"Yeah, it doesn't matter," Al added, "They're not our primary targets."

Thimble found herself smiling gratefully at Al. But Spark did not continue their argument. She was taking even steps, muttering under her breath.

"Whatcha doin', Sparky?" Al asked.

"Making calculations, shut up." Spark answered curtly.

The other three quieted, moving slowly behind her. Wiley kept casting nervous glances towards Pride. Luckily, they had a few tall spires shielding them from the Careers' wandering eyes.

Al fell to the back to make conversation with Thimble. "How's your hand?" He asked in a low voice.

Thimble felt flattered he cared enough to ask. That memory of him nursing her wound was still strong in her mind. She found herself beginning to like Al. He wasn't so bad even if his IQ was questionable. "It'll be fine," She said briskly. "It wasn't as bad as it looked."

"Make sure to keep it wrapped tight. Don't strain it or anything," Al advised.

"Good thing I'm a righty." Thimble said, clenching and unclenching her right fist. Then she added in a quieter voice, "Um…thanks for yesterday by the way."

"No problem, kid!" Al said, grinning, "I _am _a master fisherman, after all!"

It took Thimble a moment to realize what he meant. "Not catching the fish!" She said through gritted teeth, "Besides, that was the day before yesterday!"

"Oh." Al laughed, "My bad."

A light laugh escaped Thimble's mouth as well. She quickly covered it up with a cough.

"We're here." Spark interrupted grimly.

They had finally reached the top. The gaping crater stood before them, the air shimmering around it. Next to it, the skeletal tree the District 4 Careers had investigated two days before. Thimble remembered her trigger mechanism involving the rope. She had planned to use rocks to tie the dynamite down, but this tree would work perfectly to hang it from above.

"All right," Spark said, "I did my best to estimate the distance from here to the canoe. Let's see how far the fuse reaches."

With that, they began uncoiling the long wire. With each step down the side of the small mountain, Wiley looked a little bit more relieved. The beginning of the fuse was where he would be stationed. The further from the top, the better.

"I need to figure out how long it takes for a foot of fuse to burn," Spark declared, once everything was laid out.

"Why?" Wiley wondered.

"So I can try and figure out how long we'll have once you light this." She explained with an impatient sigh.

Hesitantly, Wiley removed his glasses and held it at the end of the fuse. He didn't want to shorten his lifeline, but he didn't want to argue with Spark either.

"Get ready to stamp it out, Almond." Spark said, crossing her arms.

The fuse caught. The spark moved surprisingly slow, working its way up the slope. All four tributes watched it go with wide eyes. Some fuses could burn at a half-second per foot, but they were lucky this was not the case. It moved very sluggishly.

"Stop!" Spark snapped.

Al stamped it out as commanded.

"Five or six seconds." Spark decided.

"So which is it?" Thimble asked.

"I don't know. Does it matter?"

Thimble was surprised to hear such blasphemous words coming out of Spark's mouth. "Well yeah!" She said, "Our lives are on the line, here! Shouldn't every second count?"

"Well, I'm sorry I can't pinpoint it down to the millisecond for you. I can only count in my head, you know! Wiley, light it again."

"But…but we need all of the fuse we can get…" Wiley whimpered, looking very uncertain.

A shadow passed overhead. All four tributes look up to see a parachute drifting straight down from the sky. Nobody moved and watched it float directly into Spark's arms. She looked pleasantly surprised that someone would spend hard-earned money on her.

Inside the container, she found two bright red digital watches emblazoned with a star logo that read _Newman. _A note inside told Spark, _One for each of you. There is a stopwatch function as well. Good luck._

"Thank you." Spark spoke loudly, "This is really kind. Wiley?" She passed one off to him.

With the newly acquired timers, they were able to pin exactly how long it took to burn through a foot of fuse. After measuring the distance, Spark surmised that they would have about five minutes from the time the fuse was lit to race across the island and get out of there. Hopefully, the Careers would be a good distance behind them and be in the perfect place for when the volcano erupted.

"That's not enough time!" Wiley protested, "Can't we just…do a practice run or something?"

"No, we can't." Spark said, rolling her eyes. "Look, you'll be fine. Just don't light the fuse until the Careers reach the island. When they do, Thimble will give the signal and we'll both start our stopwatches at the appropriate setting. That's when you light the fuse. Okay?"

"So…should I start my watch first or light the fuse first?" Wiley wondered.

"Simultaneously." Spark said firmly.

Wiley just stared at her blankly.

She nearly slapped a hand to her forehead. "That means at the same time. You have two hands, don't you?"

"Um…yes." Wiley said, looking uncertain of even this simple fact.

"Great." Spark said, all business, "Almond, let's go down the other side of the volcano and see if we can find an easy path to follow. Thimble, Wiley, you prepare the dynamite."

"Yeah, give us the life-endangering job." Thimble muttered under her breath. Then again, her job was easier when it came down to the actual plan, though she wasn't about to point that out.

Her words were drowned out by Al joking, "Ooh, baby! Sparky wants some alone time, is that it?"

"Of course not!" Spark snapped, "We're the bait, remember? Now let's go!"

She stomped down the hill, Al following with a wide grin.

As they disappeared, Thimble could hear him cracking more jokes in vain. She felt an unexpected pluck of jealousy. "Do you think Al likes Spark?" Thimble blurted out before she could stop herself.

Wiley, who was standing by the tree and fumbling with the rope, looked over in surprise. He frowned. "I dunno."

Thimble turned to look at Wiley accusingly. He looked a little bit embarrassed with the subject. "What?" She growled, "Do you like Spark in that way too?"

"No!" Wiley denied vehemently, "Course not! All she's done is boss me around!"

"Yeah!" Thimble agreed, surprised by her own fervor, "And it's stupid to like someone in the Hunger Games because pretty much everyone's going to die!" Even as she said this, she could feel her face burning.

"Right!" Wiley said. But his expression suddenly softened and he looked at Thimble fondly, "Oh, don't get me wrong, love. I like the lot of you. But when it comes down to it I...don't really want to d-die."

Thimble nodded, avoiding Wiley's eyes. "Me too. You can't…you can't form attachments in the arena."

Wiley didn't answer. Silence reigned as the two of them carefully began to set up the dynamite trap. They handled it with care, bunching the dynamite together and tying it. When they had finished, the bundle hung over the crater, suspended by the rope attached to the leaning tree. The fuse and the rope were connected as well.

Thimble cast a glance down the path, but she couldn't spot Spark or Al making their way back. "Now what?" She wondered.

Wiley cast a fearful glance towards Pride, his blue eyes swimming with terror. "Now we wait."

* * *

"Hey, look at that!" Jade said suddenly, sitting up and pointing at something out on the ocean, "Tributes!"

Sure enough, out on the water floated a pink raft. It was drifting slowly on the outskirts of the Cornucopia island. The tributes inside seemed to be hunching low, but they couldn't hope to disguise their ridiculous mode of transportation.

"On that island too!" Jade exclaimed, spotting two dark shapes weaving through the rocks, "Come on, let's go!"

"Hold it, babe." Ian said flatly, not even reacting to Jade's words. He was sprawled on in the grass with his eyes closed, basking in the warmth of the sun. "We're not going anywhere."

Jade glared at Ian while adjusting her reclaimed vest of knives. She was already on her feet, raring to get going. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Zale is too sick to go anywhere and I'm tired." Ian sighed, "I need a break."

"So this is what the Careers have been reduced to?" Jade demanded, throwing her arms out to the two teenage boys dozing on the ground.

"Feel free to chase them yourself." Ian yawned, rolling over so he wouldn't have to look at Jade.

Zale shivered, despite the heat of the day. He couldn't understand what was wrong. He was lost in a haze. Everything felt like a dream ever since Meredith died. He still couldn't believe she was really gone. For some reason, part of him believed the Games would come down to the two of them. She was strong, but he would ultimately defeat her in the end and avenge his sister. But that was just a ridiculous fantasy. He sighed.

Nothing seemed real anymore…the antidote weighed heavy in Zale's pocket, but he didn't want to take it out in front of the others. He would wait for the opportune moment. But with each second, he seemed to be losing strength.

Despairing, he closed his eyes and slipped back into unconsciousness.

Jade just looked at each of her teammates in turn. "Fine!" She huffed, sitting down next to Ian, "But I'm not keeping guard for you while you slack off!"

"That's the spirit." Ian murmured sleepily.

* * *

Not long after finishing with the trap setup, Spark and Al returned from their little hike. They faced the other half of their alliance quietly. The sun was high overhead, beating down on them. Everyone was sweating, but it wasn't just from the heat. The enormity of what they were about to do loomed over them.

"You set up the trap?" Spark questioned.

Wiley nodded. "You find a good path to follow?"

Spark muttered a quiet confirmation.

Everyone looked at one another silently, knowing that this could be the last time they would be together. Anything could go wrong. They could all be killed in one single moment. But they had come too far to turn back.

"Well…" Al sighed, fiddling with his cutlass; "I guess that's it, then?"

"Good luck." Spark said, nodding to both Wiley and Thimble.

Wiley looked like he was going to cry. "Good luck." He said sadly. "And th-thanks for going through with this…I guess…" Just his tone was enough to betray he thought they were all doomed. With heavy steps, he turned and began to make his way to his station at the start of the fuse.

Spark and Al exchanged a glance. Al offered his hand.

"Ready for this, Sparky?" He asked, smiling at his partner. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Determination flashed across Spark's face. "Let's go." She took his hand in hers and they shook once.

Then they were off, retreating back the way they had come.

Thimble remained where she was, watching both parties go separate ways. She was clenching her fists so tightly that her hand wound had started throbbing. With a deep breath, she released them and closed her eyes.

The plan was in motion.


	32. 44th Interviews

**KRRSCHT WE INTERRUPT THIS CLIFFHANGER TO BRING YOU…CHARACTERS YOU STOPPED CARING ABOUT TWENTY CHAPTERS AGO! **

**That's right, it's time for the family/friend interviews! What you say bout me? You say I promised the next chapter would contain "serious shiz" aka the Dynamite Alliance's plan in action? You say interviews happen at top 8 and not top 10? You should know by now I like to lie to you guys and I do what I want. So enjoy the chapter! I had fun making these characters. I think we can all relate to them in a way (especially Minnie).**

"Oh my _God_, are you freaking _kidding _me?!" Minnie screamed, leaping to her feet and pulling on her long, black hair. "They're airing the interviews now? Why would they air the interviews _now_ of all times!"

"Calm yourself, Minnie," Seraphina sighed, adjusting her lenseless pair of Wiley glasses for the fifth time in a minute. "I'm positive it won't interfere with the action and blood spill you so desire to see."

"Ughh!" Minnie groaned, dramatically collapsing in front of the large TV.

"I can't wait to hear from Ian's family!" Treasure squealed, glomping her Ian body pillow, "Because they're going to be my family one day! Because I'm going to marry Ian!"

Olive frowned. "You said that already…"

The four Capitol tweens were currently huddled in Treasure's room, where every surface was bright pink and covered in Hunger Games merchandise. The girls were having the sleepover of a lifetime. The TV was on 24/7 while they played games and ate delicious snacks provided by loving parents.

Treasure was currently curled in her bed. She wore lacey pajamas and her face was smattered with a ridiculous amount of pink makeup. She was constantly hugging her Ian pillow to her chest as if she'd die without it.

Minnie was on the floor in front of the TV, sometimes pressing herself against it so she could capture every pixel of action. She hated all of the tributes and laughed at each death. The only tribute she had ever appreciated was Adrenaline Rush and she had the tattoos to prove it.

Seraphina prided herself on being the calmest of her friends. She had the oddest appearance. She wore Wiley's glasses, despite her 20/20 vision, had Thimble's short hairstyle, and dotted freckles on her face in homage to Spark. She had even blacked out one of her teeth in honor of Al. It was clear to see which alliance she was rooting for.

Olive was the simplest of her friends. She sat at the edge of the bed next to Treasure, her dull gray eyes constantly confused. "Wait, so which island is Sagitta on?" She wondered. No one answered.

"It's starting!" Treasure shrieked, turning up the volume.

"Ladies and gentlemen…" Caesar Flickerman's dramatic voice filled every corner of the room, "Your final ten…"

A montage of the final ten tributes began, starting with a shot of Jade running up to Ian's side. Treasure shrieked at the sight of her crush and Minnie had to scream at her to shut up. Next came a picture of Sagitta aiming an arrow at the camera, and a group shot of the Dynamite Alliance scaling Wrath. Then came District 10 reuniting and Zale, fighting epically in the Bloodbath. A rousing soundtrack played throughout.

"I miss Viola," Olive sighed heavily, "She was my favorite."

The other girls shushed her. Then flaming letters appeared, spelling out _The 44__th__ Hunger Games: Interviews._

Panem's favorite reporter, Libra Lumiere, appeared in a rather sleazy little number. She wore a low-cut, body-hugging dress that seemed caught somewhere between pink and red in color. She had on a long, blonde wig that reached down her back and had roses twined into it.

"Greetings, Panem! Happy Hunger Games! Now that we've reached the top ten tributes and the top seven districts, we'll be holding interviews with their loved ones. As you can see, I'll be here to represent each deadly sin in honor of the theme of this year's arena. A big shout out to my hard-working stylist!" Libra glanced down at the dress, her nose wrinkling slightly. "Anyways, let's get started!"

The camera zoomed out, revealing that the reporter was standing next to Chardonnay Bordeaux, Ian's girlfriend.

"WHORE!" Treasure screeched, grabbing a small pillow and chucking it at the screen. It bounced off harmlessly as the interview began.

"I'm here with Chardonnay, Victor Channa's younger sister and girlfriend of Obsidian Shaw. Chardonnay, what do you think of these Games so far?"

"Fabulous, Libra, absolutely fabulous." Chardonnay gushed, taking the microphone right out of a disgruntled Libra's hands. "I just know Ian is going to bring home another win for our beautiful district!"

"So…" Libra said, struggling to take the microphone back, "You're not nervous you'll lose him?"

"Of course not!" Chardonnay answered instantly.

"Well, it's good to see such ignorance—I mean, confidence." Libra said, shooting an annoyed glance at the camera. "Now if I recall, there was a bit of a love triangle between the two District 1 tributes and yourself. What can you tell me about that?"

Chardonnay laughed, "Oh yes, I was hoping you'd let me clear that up. Ian and Jade used to date, but he dumped her for me. As for that fiasco at the goodbyes, I was merely trying to save my dying friendship with Jade."

"Liar!" Treasure hissed, leering at the TV, "You told Ian to kill Jade! She's trying to destroy one of my favorite ships!"

"I thought you said you shipped Ian with yourself?" Minnie snickered.

Treasure fluffed up her pink boa, smiling, "Of course! But I won't deny he and Jade are just sooo cute together! And it's okay if I ship them because she'll be dead soon anyways so Ian can come home!"

District 1 quite possibly had the longest interview process. There were bunches of teenagers all claiming to be close friends to Ian and Jade. A number of fangirls squealed incoherently over Ian while Treasure's friends made fun of her for the likeness. Hearing from Ian's family was more interesting.

"I taught Ian everything he knows!" Precious bragged, standing with an arm around her shy-looking daughter.

"Oh, do you work as a trainer?" Libra asked, looking vaguely interested.

"No." Precious said simply. A smirk appeared on her face; as if she had a delicious secret she wasn't too interested in sharing.

The annoyance was clear on Libra's face. The interviews switched to Jade's family after that. Her parents were classic Career parents, gushing about how great their daughter was. She was going to win it all! Jade's little brother, who had a solo interview, seemed much more sincere.

"My sister deals with a lot of stress, living up to my parents' expectations. But if she wins, we're going to make up for lost time and do all sorts of things together." He smiled sadly at the ground, as if he didn't dare get his hopes up.

"Ooh, he's cute!" Treasure sang.

Seraphina gave a bored sigh. "Careers are so mainstream. They're all the same…nothing but a colorless field of rye waving stiffly in the breeze."

"I liked Xander a lot." Olive said with a faraway look in her eyes, "Why did they have to kill Xander?"

"Because it's the freaking Hunger Games, you idiot." Minnie growled, bored and frustrated with the slow-paced interviews. At least she could appreciate that her favorite tribute was up next. Surprisingly, she had many people stepping up to speak for her.

"We know our sister," One of the twins, Serendipity was saying, "She's been through a lot, growing up,"

"We think she can make it out alive." September finished.

"Yes, yes, that's what they all say." Libra said in a bright voice, but the sarcasm could be heard just underneath. For District 2, she had switched to represent Gluttony. She wore a poofy, light pink dress with dark green swirls that formed a symmetrical picture of Cerberus on her bodice. Her hair was up in a matching pink wig.

Sagitta's mother declined the interview with her, claiming she had nothing to say about someone who wouldn't accept her as family. Sagitta's father only had good things to say and went on about what a tough little kid Sagitta was growing up.

"If Sagitta doesn't make it home, what would you say your biggest regret it?" The reporter questioned.

Angelo's eyes suddenly grew misty with emotion. "Not being there enough." He said in a husky voice, "I can promise you, that'll change if my baby girl makes it home in one piece." A big grin broke out on his face. "Heh…she'd kill me for saying that."

"Awww…" The Capitol girls all let out heartfelt sighs.

The mood lightened when Sagitta's friends were called to the stage. Novae, the girl that had tried to steal her spot, was raging, "She'd better win! If she dies, I'm going to be really, really mad at her!"

"She'll win," Angeliqa said quietly, "The three of us promised we would volunteer consecutive years and become victors. She has to win."

"Oh, hi!" Charisma squealed, waving at the camera, "I'm from the Capitol! I know my appearance is so last year, but I'm working on it!"

"She seems like she'd be a pleasure to be friends with." Seraphina noted, observing Charisma with a critical eye, "Though I believe her fashion statements are too ordinary. Everyone always tries to suit the theme of the arena; no creativity whatsoever."

It was time to move on to District 3 after that. Once again, Libra Lumiere was there on the scene. Now she wore a shiny golden dress. Every bit of bare skin was covered with jewelry. Even her platinum hair glimmered.

"…Wait, how is she both there and in the others…?"

Everyone shushed Olive and looked eagerly at the mess that was Wiley's family.

"That's right! I own Corr Industries!" Mr. Corr boomed in a jovial voice, "All donations that are coming in have been greatly appreciated! Remember, it's all for science!" He flashed a thumbs-up to the camera and winked.

Rick, wearing his usual gaudy cowboy hat, squeezed between his father and Libra, trying to get his mouth near the microphone. He began speaking with a poor imitation of Buck's accent, "Hey there ladies, my name's Rick and I'm designed for danger. If yer lookin' for an adventure, then come on over to my house sometime and I'll show you why I'm a black belt in pretty much everything. Karate. Larate. Taekwondo. …Bedroom."

"Rick!" Wiley's mother sputtered, trying to control her two boys. The third, Craig, just grimaced and rolled his eyes. Mrs. Corr took her hands off Neil for just a second to pull Rick away from the mic. Big mistake.

"Hey Lady. LADY!" Neil threw his body at Libra, grabbing her shiny dress in his little fists.

"Cut the tape!" She screamed, just before it faded to a much calmer image of Spark's family. Libra looked slightly disheveled, but said in a light voice, "I'm here with the Watsons…tell me, did you ever imagine your daughter would make it this far?"

"Truthfully?" Her father, Harvard, said, "No."

"But only because of those awful Careers," Her mother said quickly, covering her husband's tracks, "Our daughter can be rather snarky. We're just glad she didn't become a target."

The screen faded to a shot of Dexter, her brother. He was surprisingly laid back.

"What do you think of this plan Spark has become involved in?" Libra questioned.

"I'm really proud of her," Dexter said, with a small smile, "My little sister knows what she's doing. If she thinks the plan will work, then it'll work."

"I suppose we'll just have to wait and see!" Libra said cheerfully.

Minnie let out a high-pitched whine. "I can't take it! Please stop talking about it!"

Spark's last representative was a little old man that appeared to be her grandfather. But he introduced himself as her employer.

"In stories, brain tends to win over brawn," Mr. Johnson said in a quavering voice. He was so old he looked as if he could collapse at any moment. He reached out and put a hand on Libra's shoulder for support, causing the reporter to grimace, but not move away. The old man continued, "Miss Watson is brilliant. I know she may not seem like it at first glance, but she really is a sweet girl who respects her elders. She deserves to win more than anyone else."

Treasure cooed, "Oh, he's so adorable! I wish he was my grandpa!"

"Me too," Olive agreed.

"Is Zale up next?" Seraphina said, rising to her feet, "This is a good time for a bathroom break."

"Why?" Minnie snapped, rounding on her friend, "You've got a problem with Zale?"

"No. He has suffered greatly, with a vengeful heart that has no way to free itself from the choking darkness it is cloaked in." Seraphina said in a superior tone, her eyes becoming distant, "Like a flower blossoming at the end of spring, he has developed into something more than just your normal bloodthirsty Career, for he has acquired a reason to fight for more than just his own life..."

A pause.

Seraphina frowned. "Plus I just really have to pee and Career families bore me."

So Seraphina stepped out while the others watched Zale's parents talk about their son. They didn't seem as confident as they should be. Libra was there in a cloudlike, light blue dress decorated with pillow down and flowers around the waist. She had two earrings that appeared to resemble eels upon further inspection and a short, puffy blue wig. She looked slightly bored, holding the microphone towards her subjects.

"We're just hoping someone will see his potential and sponsor him," Zale's mother said, the desperation clear in her eyes, "If he could just get over this bout of poisoning, he'll sweep the competition!"

"Exactly." His father agreed, "And just look at his competition! Aside from the Careers, the other tributes don't have much going for them, at least I don't think so."

Libra brought up the topic of Zale's sister, but both parents brushed it off. They were both focused on their son at the moment. Their other child was a remnant of the past now.

Then it was time for District 8.

Representing Wrath, Libra had on a dark red, strapless cocktail dress with jagged ends. There were large, spiky shoulder pads as well, that flared up around her neck like the top part of a cape. She had messy, red hair and dark makeup that looked very intimidating.

But Thimble's family was anything but intimidated. They were gathered behind Libra, looking very excited.

"We're very proud of Thimble," Her mother said, with tears in her eyes.

"Even if she doesn't win, we'll always be proud of her." Her father added.

Thredger suddenly jumped in and announced, "If Thimble comes home, we're going to throw the biggest party District 8 has ever seen!"

Her other brothers smiled, trying to appear positive.

Seraphina threw her hands towards the large family, despairing, "My heart goes out to them! I dearly hope Thimble reigns victorious. It would be a blessing to procure such a young victor."

"I like Thimble too!" Olive said happily, "Will she be okay, you think?"

No one answered as Libra had moved on with the next interview. On screen was a rather stoic-faced boy. Behind him was a giggling posse of girls, each trying to get on national TV.

"I'm Thimble's best friend!" One of them called faintly, pushing her lip out in a pout. "You should interview me."

Libra was visibly gritting her teeth next to Loom, but it was he who spoke up.

"That's Lacy. You should really interview her instead of me." He said in a quiet voice, "Before she left the district, Thimble punched her right in the face. She can give you a firsthand account of what it was like."

Lacy suddenly turned bright red. Her friends gathered around her with shrill protests, claiming that he was wrong. Loom only smiled softly. The girls ran off, still calling insults over their shoulder.

"Well done," Libra sighed, adjusting her wig, "So is there any inside information we ought to know about Thimble? What can you tell us that we don't already know?"

"Nothing," Loom replied evenly, "Thimble isn't one to hide who she is. If she does harbor any secrets, I wouldn't betray her trust by telling it. But I know nothing. What you see is what you get with her."

"Well…do you harbor any feelings for her? Hmm?" Libra smiled slyly and held the microphone a little closer.

Loom hesitated to respond right away. Then he said, "What a strange way to ask if I like her. Of course I like her…she's my best friend. She'll always be my best friend."

"How sweet! Does that mean he's up for grabs?" Treasure giggled, a glint in her eyes.

"What about Ian?" Olive wondered.

"Ian will always be my one true love, but that doesn't mean I can't have other men on the side!" Treasure said, jabbing Olive in the stomach and making her screech, "Just like my mom does! Heehee!"

Minnie let out a frustrated sigh, "Just three more to go…three more…"

_District 10_, some text at the bottom of the screen read. Libra appeared, her eyes slightly horrified at her surroundings in District 10's very own Tenderloin. She wore a slim, green dress and had a live snake wrapped around her neck to boot. Scorpion tattoos crawled up her bare arms and her outfit was topped off with a dark green wig, the perfect color to represent Envy. She seemed much more disturbed with the people passing by than the reptile clinging to her shoulders.

Rugged-looking Ram was her first subject.

"So Ram," She said, facing the young man, "Are you Buck's guardian? We couldn't seem to get in contact with his parents."

"Parents're dead," Ram said bluntly, shoving his hands into his jean pockets and avoiding Libra's eyes, "Our grandmother raised us."

"And where is she on this fine day?" Libra asked, looking around curiously.

Ram shrugged. "She ain't in the best of health. Dementia, y'know. I'll be speakin' for our family today."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Libra sighed, faking a good apologetic expression, "If you don't mind me asking, how did you lose your parents?"

Ram gave another nonchalant shrug. "Rumor has it my dad killed my mom after he found her cheatin' on him. Killed himself right after."

A slight glare crept over Libra's face. "Rumor, you say? So is it true or not?"

"You tell me." Ram said.

Libra asked a few more questions addressing Buck's survival. Ram answered them all with the same simple answers, recalling that he had to take care of Buck most of his life. Now, he was on his own. But he had a feeling he could do it.

Buck's other representative was his childhood friend Darby. She laughed about good times and mentioned how she often had Buck's back in sticky situations. When Libra asked her to describe a few, Darby looked around shiftily.

"Um…break-ups, mainly," She said mysteriously, "Ladies, be warned. He's a bad breaker-upper. If he doesn't like you, you'll be hearing from me."

"Ooh, a bad breaker-upper, huh? Buck just got a lot more interesting." Treasure giggled.

"I suppose fighting off blood-sucking butterflies and giant snakes isn't interesting enough for you?" Seraphina said with a withering glance at her friend.

"He'd be more interesting if he was being devoured by them instead." Minnie hissed under her breath.

Claire had a loving family ready to represent her.

"As long as my sister has someone to boss around, she'll keep on trucking!" Demi declared, but a good-natured smile shone on her face, "She's been the powerhouse that kept our family going for all these years. I…I'm sure she can pull through this!"

Her little brother, Noah, didn't look too happy. His gaze was downcast.

"Who do you think was a better partner to Claire—Flick or Buck?" Libra asked, looking inquiringly at the others.

"Flick." Demi answered instantly, "You heard her. He's just like little Noah here." She ruffled her brother's head.

He blinked sadly. His lips formed silent words, lost without the aid of the microphone. _Poor Flick_, they said.

Claire's father answered in a calm voice, "I disagree. I think Buck is a better partner for my daughter. Flick wasn't capable of protecting her."

Demi elbowed him roughly. "Don't talk that way about him." She hissed, but her father didn't react.

"If it comes down to it, do you think Claire will kill to win the Games?" Libra asked eagerly.

The family all exchanged a glance. Demi couldn't help but let out a snort.

"I can't imagine her ever doing so," Her father answered, "The Hunger Games may be strong enough to completely change a person, but not Claire. She'll continue to fight these rules for as long as she lives."

"Which will hopefully be for many more years to come." Demi added in a quieter voice.

Noah gave a firm nod, but his face suddenly contorted into an expression of grief.

The four Capitol tweens remained quiet as the scene switched to the final interview. Libra was in her final dress: a long, strapless purple gown that almost seemed to reflect light. Her hair was auburn and had been styled into horns. She was on incredibly high heels and seemed rather uncomfortable where she was standing.

Next to her was a gangly, big-nosed boy with close-set eyes and hair that desperately needed cut. "Before we begin, I'd like to point out that I put on a shirt special for this occasion."

Libra blinked back her confusion. "Um…okay?"

Beetle sighed. "Too bad Al can't see this. I'm sure he would be stunned."

"Speaking of Al, are you impressed he made it this far?"

Beetle opened his mouth to respond, but suddenly two little girls came leaping over, struggling to jump in front of the camera.

"Go Unca Al! Go Unca Al!" They chanted.

"Agatha, you're supposed to be watching them!" Beetle said irritably.

His little sister came onscreen, flashing a nervous grin at the camera, and retrieved her two younger siblings. "S-Sorry!" She stammered, hurrying off with them squealing protests.

"Sorry about that. But yeah, I am. I thought he'd be a goner in the Bloodbath." Beetle said bluntly.

Libra gave a small laugh. "At least you're honest! So, is your family very close with Al's? Seems like your little sisters have formed quite the fan club."

"Sure." Beetle yawned, looking bored. "Are we done here? I've got things to do."

Libra's cheery disposition fell away immediately, but it was quickly replaced by a shot of her standing with Al's parents. They both looked slightly nervous, but as soon as he realized the camera was rolling, Almond Frezno Sr. brightened up considerably. His wife, Melanie, continued to bite her lip fearfully.

"So…I take it Al was named after you, huh?" Libra snorted, looking at his father.

"Got that straight." Almond Sr. confirmed, looking proud. "He's a hard-working kid! He may goof off a good deal, but he really deserves to win."

Olive goggled at the screen. "My brother said Al's mom was a milf. What's a milf?" She wondered.

"HOLD UP!" Treasure shrieked suddenly, "I have a really important question!"

"What?" Minnie asked, fidgeting from her position on the floor. The interviews were nearly over. She was dying to see what would happen within the next hour of the Games.

"Sparkal or Thimbal?" Treasure asked seriously.

"Sparkle?" Olive echoed in confusion.

"No, Spark_al_. It's their ship name. Who do you ship?" Treasure asked, thoughtfully stroking the face of Ian on her pillow.

"Who cares?!" Minnie growled, "They're all going to be corpses soon enough!"

"Eww!" Treasure said, screwing up her nose, "I can't ship corpses!"

"Exactly." Minnie said, turning her back to the TV and watching it hungrily, willing the Games to come back on.

She didn't have long to wait. The interviews concluded and the montage was shown once more. The others girls started squealing in excitement, even the usually calm Seraphina.

"I can't wait!" She gasped, "Go Thimble! Go Al! Go Spark and Wiley! Win for your families, for your friends, who so desperately wish to see you again…!"

"GO IAN!" Treasure shrieked, squeezing her pillow with every ounce of strength she possessed. If it had been the real Ian, she probably would have broken his back.

"I don't care who wins!" Minnie cackled, "Just show me a good time!"

Olive just stared at the screen blankly. "Wait, so how many are left now?"

No one answered.

The Games were back on.

**I have some fun little questions for you since everyone likes to talk about their opinions and it's a good time to do it, this being the Top 10 and all!**

**What are your thoughts on the Games thus far?**

**Who are you rooting for?**

**Who do you think will die next?**

**Sparkal or Thimbal? (Treasure needs to know, it's really important)**

**Did you realize Spark and Wiley's ship name is Sparkley? Now that's special.**

**Next update comin' atcha Friday!**


	33. Light It Up

**Here are the results for who you're rooting for. Congratulations, Claire! Plenty of love for our D10 gal. ^_^  
**

**1st Claire with 8 votes  
**

**2nd Sagitta and Buck with 5 votes**

**3rd Jade and Al with 4 votes**

**4th Ian, Spark, and Thimble with 3 votes**

**5th Zale with 2 votes**

**6th Wiley with 0 votes**

**...And no love for Wiley! Bahahaa! Well we all know he's doomed so why waste energy rooting for him. Don't worry, Wiley, I'll always root for you! **

**Now get ready for one of the shortest yet (...hopefully?) most exciting chapters! The next update won't be coming for a little while because of various reasons. I wonder if we can reach 1000 in the lull? :) /cough/ Hint, hint. Review!  
**

"How long do we have to stand here until they notice us? I'm getting impatient." Spark sighed, lifting a hand to shield the sun from her eyes. The Careers remained where they were, unbothered with the fact that two tributes were out in the open and ready for the taking.

Al let out a chuckle. "Heheh…it's kind of funny when you think about it. They chase us at the worst possible time, and then they _don't _come after us when we want them to. I guess we'll just have to bring them here ourselves." He hopped off the rock they were standing on and splashed down into the shallow water below.

Spark took a step back, looking uncertain. "What are you doing?"

"You know how to swim, right?" Al asked, running a hand through his soaked head of hair.

Spark's eyes widened fearfully at the prospect of going in the water. The ocean was fine as long as you were on top of it. But the idea of being immersed in those ever-moving waves was terrifying. "I…w-well, no! District 3 isn't exactly teeming with swimming pools, you know?"

"Then allow me to give you your first swimming lesson." Al offered kindly, holding out his hand. "And right after that, you're going to get a crash course on what I do best."

Spark gritted her teeth, protests bubbling up inside. She couldn't tell if that was a sexual innuendo or not—now was hardly the time for Al's jokes. "Can't I just wait for you here?" She pleaded.

Al smiled. "I ain't gonna let ya drown, Sparky."

With a frustrated sigh, Spark crumbled. She hopped down into the water next to Al, surprised to find it was warmer than it looked. She rested in the shallows for a moment, wiping four days' worth of sweat and grime off her face. She didn't want to know how badly she smelled; her sense of smell had become immune to her own stench at some point.

Al waited patiently for Spark to finish up, enjoying the feel of the water on his skin. The Careers weren't going anywhere anytime soon. But they couldn't keep the rest of their alliance waiting.

"Ready?" He asked, once Spark had finished.

She swallowed her fear and nodded.

* * *

Jade had been in a bad mood for a little while, but then she realized taking a break was pretty nice. The sun felt great on her skin and a nice breeze cooled them off. With Ian here, she didn't feel like she needed to go, go, go all the time.

_I bet plenty of girls would kill to be in my position… _Jade thought, very aware of how close she was to Ian's lean body, _I wonder if Chardonnay ever gets jealous? _

The thought of Chardonnay brought back all sorts of unwanted memories. Losing both a boyfriend and a best friend in one blow was hurtful. Jade shook off her bitterness and sat up, looking admirably at the deep blue sea before them. This really was a beautiful arena. She wished she took more time to appreciate it.

Suddenly, something caught her eye. A canoe was in very close proximity with their island. Two cocky tributes had tried to slip past them while they rested.

"Ian!" Jade said sharply, shaking him awake, "Come on, look how close those tributes are! We can't pass up this opportunity!"

With a groan, he sat up and sleepily peered at his surroundings. Jade had already rushed over to Zale and was shaking him awake. Zale forced open his eyes weakly as she hurriedly told him to get up: they were going hunting. But he couldn't even bring himself to feel that spark of excitement that accompanied a hunting trip.

"Water." He rasped.

Jade looked disgusted by the very idea. "Come on, that can come later!" She said, tugging on Zale's arm. "We have a job to do!"

He felt a flash of irritation, but remained where he was. Jade quickly gave up when she realized she wasn't powerful enough to drag him to his feet. She turned back to Ian.

"I could use another hour," He yawned, tousling his hair. His scorpion sting had nearly faded, thanks to his salve he no longer had to share.

"Ian!" Jade's voice rose to a desperate whine.

He gave a small snort. "Fine, fine. But only for you."

The two of them secured their weapons and went rushing down the hill, leaving the useless body of Zale behind. But as they approached the water, Jade realized something was amiss. Her eyes scoured the shore.

"The canoe…!" She choked out, realization hitting her like a hammer, "Where's the canoe?!"

One of the tributes out on the water suddenly lowered his paddle and turned around, revealing himself to be Al. Pointing a finger, he shouted back, "Boom! I'm stealin' your canoe, man! _Boom!_"

"Frezno!" Jade snarled.

Every line in Ian's face was suddenly laced in hatred. "I've been wanting a bite out of him for a long time," He growled, "Let's get him!" He shot forward to plunge into the ocean.

Jade ran alongside him, exclaiming, "Wait! I've never gone swimming before!"

"I'll take care of you," Ian purred, smirking at her for a fleeting moment. Jade could feel the heat rush to her face. But then he was diving into the waves, swimming strongly after the stolen canoe. Jade followed his lead bravely.

Both Careers were full of energy and propelled themselves through the water with incredible speed. Jade found swimming in the ocean to be easier than she imagined. She kept close to Ian all the while keeping her eyes fixed on the canoe.

Al's loud voice drifted on the breeze. "Uh-oh, Sparky! I don't think we should have taken the canoe! I think we should just dock and give it back to them! Man, did you see the way Jade looked at me? I think she's a little jealous of our newfound relationship!"

"Would you shut up?" Spark hissed, shooting a glare over her shoulder, "You're going to give everything away with your bad acting!" Looking past Al, she could see the Careers cutting through the water at an alarming rate. "Paddle faster!" She said quickly, making each stroke more powerful than the last.

But after a few minutes of battling the waves, the Careers weakened. Jade fell behind Ian, her soaked vest of knives weighing her down. Her limbs felt heavier and heavier as well. She began to fear she would sink. She opened her mouth to call for Ian, but a swell unexpectedly swept over her. Seawater choked her. She tried to kick out and resurface, but she found herself submerged. Fear tore through her system, making her chest feel like a giant fist was crushing it.

Something snaked around her torso. Jade tried to scream, but couldn't produce any sound. Suddenly, she broke through to the surface. The bright light caused her vision to darken a moment and all she could do was gasp for air. A moment later, she realized Ian was holding her tightly to his chest.

"Gotcha." Ian panted, treading furiously to keep them both above the water.

"Thanks." Jade said between lungfuls of air.

Ian's eyes shone with fatigue. He looked ahead, giving a shake of his head to free his eyes of his waterlogged bangs. "Just a little farther." He said in a strained voice, "Can you make it?"

"Yeah." Jade mumbled into his chest, feeling like a dead weight in his arms. She wouldn't have minded staying like this for a little longer, but they had work to do.

Regretfully, she let go of him and the two continued their pursuit.

* * *

"I'm so tired." Spark gasped, as they docked the canoe onshore. "Give me a moment, will you?" Her arm muscles hurt beyond belief. She still couldn't believe she swam such an incredible distance and rowed it right after. Luckily, Al had been there to aid her.

He glanced up the side of the mount to where Thimble stood at the highest point. As soon as she saw them, she bounded out of sight to give Wiley the first signal. Al looked back the way they had come, trying to spot two bobbing heads among the waves.

"C'mon, we gotta keep going." He said, taking Spark's hand and tugging it lightly, "They could be here any minute."

Conserving their energy, the two began to make their way up the path they had selected. It was still a steep trail with a few instances where they had to climb. Spark was low on stamina and didn't quite know how much further she could make it before she collapsed.

The thought of the Careers on their tail kept the both of them going.

* * *

Wiley watched Thimble appear further up the slope to give him the first signal. Excellent. Everything was going according to plan.

He whipped off his glasses and knelt down, preparing to focus the sun's rays on the fuse. His heart was fluttering in his chest and his knees were constantly shaking, but he knew the rest of the alliance was depending on him. He would not fail them. At the same time, he would show the world just what his brilliant mind could do.

Brimming with confidence, Wiley looked up the hill, prepared to receive the next signal. A gasp escaped his lips and that confidence was immediately replaced by panic. Thimble had been reduced to nothing but a dark, blurry shape on the horizon.

_My glasses! I took my glasses off! _His mind screamed, _And then I just sat here like a bloody loon! She could have given the signal while I was just sitting here blind!_

With a strangled cry, Wiley jammed his glasses back onto his face. "The signal!" He shouted to Thimble, waving his arms frantically, "Did you give the signal?!"

But she had gone, most likely moving off to a better vantage point. Wiley paced back and forth, nervously biting his nails. If the Careers were here, Thimble would most likely be making her way back to the canoe. Or maybe something dreadful had happened! Maybe she had accidentally taken a misstep and plunged into the volcano. Or one of the Careers had snagged her and dragged her off while he had been sightless.

"I'm just gonna light it. I'm just gonna light it!" Wiley sputtered repeatedly, urgently throwing himself towards the ground and preparing to remove his glasses.

Suddenly, his surroundings darkened dramatically. With a confused squeak, Wiley looked up to see a large cloud had passed over the sun. His jaw dropped. Thanks to his dreadful error in training, Wiley knew he couldn't hope to light this fuse without the aid of the sun.

At that moment, Thimble appeared and gave him the second signal.

The Careers had arrived.

"Ah-! Ahhhh…!" A hopeless wail sprang from Wiley's throat.

They were all doomed. The cloud seemed to be stuck, hovering diligently in front of the sun to keep him from doing his duty. Maybe he could still escape. Maybe he could just leave his alliance behind to deal with the Careers and head off on his own, safe and sound…

No. No, that wouldn't do at all.

In a fit of rage, Wiley leaped to his feet and screamed at the heavens, "This is because I told you to turn around, isn't it?! I'm sorry, okay? I won't do it again! But now I'm trying to bloody make it up to you by giving you a good show! _This is what everything has been building up to! _The Capitol's going to want to be seeing this volcano erupt, so you'd better remove that cloud _right now _or I'll—"

The cloud dissipated without a trace. Wiley was instantly on his knees, angling his glasses and beaming the sunlight onto the fuse. The same moment it lit, Wiley pressed a button on his watch and the countdown began. But he was already off and running back to the safety of the canoe.

He had played his part well. Now it was up to the rest of them.

* * *

Thimble had done her duty. Now she just needed to follow Wiley back to the canoe. But she couldn't seem to move her feet. Her eyes were transfixed on Al and Spark struggling up the side of the mountain, their strength spent. The Careers had stopped for a quick rest at the edge of the island. For a moment, she wondered if they would take the canoe back and leave.

But then here they came, giving chase to her two allies. Thimble turned to leave, knowing there was no time to lose. But as she turned to escape down the hill, she spotted something by the area where the fuse was connected to the rope. Something that had not been there before.

It was a small tortoise, slowly gnawing its way through the rope, which held the dynamite suspended over the crater. A vision of the rope unraveling and dropping the ticking time bomb flashed through Thimble's mind.

"No!" She shrieked, diving for the tortoise.

The rope snapped.

Thimble snatched it at the precise moment, before all of their hard work could be ruined. As her left fist closed around it, she gritted her teeth and held back a cry of anguish. Her terrible wound throbbed and nearly caused her to let go. But she fought through the pain, attempting to tie the rope back to the fuse. Her hands shook the entire time, making the entire process difficult. Each passing second felt like a minute. The spark was drawing closer and closer…

Finally, Thimble secured it back in place. When she had finished, the tortoise slowly craned its neck forward and opened its mouth for another bite.

"Stop that!" Thimble snapped, grabbing the turtle and holding it tightly. She looked around frantically. She couldn't see Al or Spark. Wiley had already retreated down the craggy hill; he was nearly to the canoe.

Thimble turned and sprinted after him, her heart hammering against her chest.

Just then, the sound of screams reached her ears.

* * *

The Careers had caught up alarmingly fast. Spark and Al hadn't even cleared the top of the island yet. They were struggling up a short cliff, fighting every aching bone in their body. If only they could clear this obstacle. Then it was one more uphill sprint and they would be over the mount.

Spark's watch weighed heavily in her pocket yet she refrained from checking how many minutes they had to live. A light laugh informed her that Jade and Ian had reached the cliff and started climbing after them. Spark roughly dug her boots into the cliffside, dislodging rocks and showering them down on the Careers.

Jade screamed as a large stone struck her forehead, instantly drawing blood. It dripped down her face, warm and wet. Rage flashed through her system.

Al and Spark hauled themselves over the side of the cliff. Spark tried to climb to her feet, but her body failed her. She collapsed in a heap, her energy spent.

"Sparky…" Al said, reaching down to help her up.

"No…" She panted, shooting him a furious glare, "Keep going…just keep going and don't look back…there's no time!"

Al took a few steps back, still looking uncertain. But then a look of determination settled across his face and he did as she said.

After catching her breath, Spark struggled to get up and follow him. She forced her legs to move. One step after another…the Careers were nearly upon them…

Al gasped for air, his lungs burning in his chest. He kept casting frightened glances back at Spark, willing her to catch up. Then the Careers appeared over the rise, right behind her. Al opened his mouth to shout a warning, but a loud clattering cut him off. He looked down and realized his cutlass had dislodged and fallen to the ground.

He skidded to a halt and started back for it.

"No, go!" Spark screamed, making a beeline for the dropped weapon, "I've got it!"

Again, Al hesitated to obey. But the sight of the Careers was enough to move him to action. He bolted past the crater and began pounding down the side of the island, his speed doubled thanks to the steep slope.

Spark tried to follow him. But she had never been very quick on her feet.

"Gotcha!" Jade shrieked, letting one of her knives fly.

Spark was ready for it, throwing herself to the side. It narrowly missed. She faced up to the Career—blood was dripping from her forehead, forming a red mask around her furious green eyes.

Jade threw herself forward, driving her body into Spark's before she could raise her sword. Spark's scream was cut off as she hit the hard ground beneath.

Ian ran to aid Jade. She saw him coming and shouted, "No! Go get Frezno!"

Spark was weak. Ian knew Jade could handle her on her own—and he had wanted to take on Al for a long time. With a smirk, Ian shot off in pursuit, leaving the two girls to fight it out.

Jade pulled out yet another knife, aiming to drive it into Spark's throat. With a sharp screech, Spark freed her arms and threw up the cutlass to protect herself. The knife scraped it harmlessly.

"District 3 trash," Jade snarled, whipping out another knife and digging it into Spark's exposed stomach before she could react.

Spark cried out, shielding her heart with her free hand. She kept the cutlass by her throat. She knew she should fight back, but she couldn't bring herself to expose her jugular. She struggled to draw her limbs in towards her torso in order to shield all of her vital areas.

Jade just laughed. If she didn't want to cooperate, she would make sure to give her as painful a death as possible. The dusty ground beneath would be painted with Spark's blood.

* * *

Ian ran up the rest of the incline, both of his swords drawn. Al had outdistanced him quickly, without his pathetic partner hindering him, but Ian knew he couldn't escape him this time. He would have no problem killing the idiotic boy who thought he could get away with flirting with his girl.

But as Ian passed by the crater, something caught his eye. It was a bundle of bright red dynamite hanging suspended over the volcano. The rope that held it there was burning. The dynamite was slipping…

Suddenly, everything clicked into place.

* * *

"We're not leaving without Al!" Thimble screamed, reaching up and clutching at Wiley's chest. Tears were forming in her eyes as she pleaded him to stop. "He's right there, just wait one more second!"

Al was racing down the hill, going as fast as he could go. But Wiley was absolutely wild with fear, refusing to listen to reason. "I don't care!" He shouted, his eyes wide and unfocused, "I don't care, we're leaving RIGHT NOW!"

Al watched helplessly as Wiley shoved the canoe off shore. With a flood of determination, Al pushed his body to the limit, bunching his muscles and preparing to leap into the water after them.

* * *

"JADE!" Ian's desperate scream filled the air. He appeared over the rise, barreling back the way he had come.

"Ian?" Jade called back, frightened at the desperation in her partner's voice.

She stumbled to her feet and took off towards him, leaving the battered body of Spark behind.

But she was still alive. Spark struggled to get up, but found the task impossible. Pain wracked her entire body. A sharp intake of breath caused her to cough up clumps of blood, which dribbled down her face and settled on the dry ground beneath her. Jade had managed to puncture a lung, despite all her efforts to protect herself.

With a shaking hand, she used the last of her strength to unzip her pocket and pull out her sponsor gift. Even as her vision darkened, she could see that they were already out of time.

* * *

_**BOOOOOM.**_

Zale snapped awake at the sound of a fierce explosion. It shook the very ground beneath him and extended to all other parts of the arena. His eyes widened with shock as they found the source.

The volcanic island was erupting, belching forth a cloud of deathly, black ash. The cloud rose up and blotted out the sun, staining the perfect blue sky. Heavier dust collapsed in on the island, covering it, smothering all who were unfortunate enough to be on it. Licks of magma could be seen racing down the slope.

_Ian and Jade…they went to that island. _Zale realized, unable to look away. Piece of piece, reality set in. _They…they're gone. Everyone's gone. _

An inexplicable emotion seized Zale and a tear ran down his face; something that had not occurred for a very long time.

He was alone.


	34. Ashes to Ashes

**Rough week. I know I said I wouldn't update for a little while but next week is another crazy one and...meh...I have no self-restraint when it comes to updating. Hey look at that...! ONE THOUSAAAND REVIEWWWS! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Can't believe we made it this far. My very first fic I published on this site remains at 10 reviews but now here we are at 1000. We lost some people on the way, but we gained some as well and we're finally there. Thanks everyone, for reading this story and taking the time to let me know your thoughts. :)**

**It's kind of funny, so many people wanted to be the 1000****th**** reviewer. My sister saw the number at 999 and left a review, and it made the count go up one, but the review never showed up. O_o I don't even...I guess the 1000th review just didn't want to be tamed.****  
**

**Anyways, if you need a pick-me-up after this chapter, I updated the Outtakes yesterday with a humorous chapter. There's also a little contest going on. I hope you'll take part! Umm I guess I should stop prattling on and let you read it now…**

Jade couldn't begin to grasp what was happening.

It felt like her eardrums had exploded. The next second, she was lying on the hard ground. Intense heat seared across her bare skin. The back of her head throbbed where it had struck against the rocks. Her face was slick with blood.

She couldn't see…she couldn't breathe…something was filling her lungs, choking her...

Suddenly, there was a loud gasp from above. Her eyes fluttered open and locked with Ian's. He had thrown his body protectively over hers. For a moment, Jade thought they were back on the train. Ian was pinning her to the cool floor of the compartment, boasting how he knew of her weaknesses. It felt like everything that followed had merely been a dream.

Tears shone in Ian's eyes and Jade could feel them in hers as well. She wanted to kiss him—and he wanted to kiss her back. Hold her and tell her that he never should have left. How sorry he was. Standing before death made him feel as though he wanted to seal up all of his regrets.

Ian began to lean down, opening his mouth to say these final words.

But the moment was too fleeting. They only had time to look upon each other one last time before a wave of hot ash swept over both of them.

* * *

When Sagitta heard the explosion, she gathered her fruit and went rushing through the forest. As she broke free from the cover and stepped out onto the beach, her bundle fell from her hands. She stared at the volcanic island in shock.

Quickly, she regained her smooth expression for the cameras. _That thing was always destined to explode, _She thought, bending down and picking her food back up. She cursed inwardly when she realized the sand was sticking to them.

In a relaxed manner, she sat down and began to brush off each piece of fruit. Her mind wandered. Now that she had recovered her strength, she needed to decide on whom to hunt down. She planned to avoid the Careers for a little while—let them self-destruct on their own. Anyone else was fair game.

Suddenly, a cannon went off, causing her to jump. Her eyes widened as two more went off. The sound echoed ominously throughout the arena. Then came silence.

_Three deaths in a row, _Sagitta thought, stunned.

She glanced at the sky in frustration, wishing desperately to know the four mysterious deaths that had occurred today. She had a few long hours to go before sunset. She would just have to be patient.

* * *

Buck and Claire were on Greed, standing at the entrance of the pirate ship, watching the volcano smoke in awe. A fierce wind was blowing, whipping up the tributes' hair and rippling the ocean's surface. The gale blew southwest, carrying the smoke away from the arena. The Gamemakers' attempt to save them from all from suffocating.

"Damn," Buck said softly, "Guess we shoulda stuck around, huh?"

Claire didn't answer for a long moment. Her eyes were transfixed on the billowing ash that poured from the mouth of the volcano. She felt a certain amount of terror rising within her.

"How did they even manage such a thing?" Claire finally asked, sorrowfully shaking her head.

"The dynamite." Buck cast a backwards glance into the ship, "I shoulda known it when I saw them—let's just hope they took out most of the Careers, right?"

"Right," Claire agreed, feeling a little less sorry for the victims.

The two headed back into the ship to complete what they had come to do. They had come to secure some sort of weapon. Of course, the Cornucopia had been emptied out long ago. The dynamite was too unstable, but Buck grabbed something that no one else had touched—gasoline. Just the stench of it was enough to put Claire on her guard.

"And what are you going to do with that?" She asked, glaring at the large red jug.

"I got matches. Maybe I'll light a tribute on fire," Buck suggested.

"That's awful!" Claire said, sounding upset. She couldn't imagine a worse way to go. Fire was uncontrollable and destructive. She didn't wish that kind of death on anyone, not even the Careers…perhaps. If she thought of her dearly departed friend, Flick, imagining a Career on fire was almost a pleasant thought. But not quite.

"Look, it's all we got." Buck sighed, "If you don't like it, you can leave."

"Fine," Claire said, "You can have it, but I won't be the one lighting the match."

Buck nodded, offering Claire a genuine smile. "Don't you worry none. You won't have to. Now where would Miss Priss like to sleep for the night?"

Claire sighed, used to his array of nicknames. "Here is fine." She decided. "We might drift away if we try to battle the wind."

* * *

With a shudder, Wiley opened his eyes.

The world had turned upside down. And it was strangely…distorted.

Wiley blinked hard, forcing his eyes to adjust to the light. Slowly, he realized that he was stuck in a tree, hanging upside down. One of his lenses had a terrible crack running through it. The sleeves of his wetsuit were torn in places, his skin scraped underneath. But he barely noticed. Through the leaves, he could see the smoking volcano in the distance. His broken glasses warped the very sight of it, making it look like there was more than one. The usual sense of fear gripped Wiley in its claws. And something else too…elation.

"It worked." He whispered in awe, "My God, it worked."

For a long while, Wiley remained where he was, just staring at the fruits of his labor. Then another idea popped into his head. The tributes. The human lives he had taken in his reckless effort to prove himself.

Before Wiley could be swamped with guilt, he heard someone beneath him, moving cautiously through the jungle. He wrenched his body from the snare of branches that trapped him and struggled to peer down. Al was on the jungle floor, looking back up at him. His eyes lit up.

"Wiley!" He breathed a sigh of relief. "You're okay. Good."

Wiley looked at Al in wonderment as the events leading up to this moment reestablished themselves. He vividly recalled being all too willing to ditch Al on the volcanic island. Yet by some miracle, he had leaped into the canoe at the last second. The resulting explosion had sent up a large wave that carried them all the way to Envy. At some point, Wiley had either blacked out from fear or some sort of head trauma from the rough landing.

Al, meanwhile, had sustained a softer landing on the beach. He had quickly entered the jungle to avoid the fierce winds that blew across the open water and battered the shores. But his waterlogged body was coated with a thick layer of sand. He kept scratching at his head, showering it down onto the jungle floor.

"Need some help?" Al asked as Wiley clumsily made his way down the tree.

"I'm fine," Wiley said, landing on the ground and rubbing his aching head, "Though it's not out of the question I may have a very minor case of serious brain damage."

Silence stretched between the two. Both of them were thinking of what had occurred today, but neither could find the words to voice their thoughts.

Finally, Al mumbled, "I'm gonna go look for…y'know…"

"Oh, I'll come with you then, shall I?" Wiley said, adjusting his cracked glasses.

The two boys began to scour the outer edges of the jungle, looking for Thimble. She couldn't have been swept too far inland. And they were right…they found her in a clump of bushes at the end of the sand, curled in a little sodden ball. She was clutching something to her chest.

"Thimble!" Al exclaimed softly, rushing to her side and giving her shoulder a light shake.

She didn't move. Her arms were limply wrapped around a tortoise, which studied the tributes with a calm expression. Her eyes were closed and she didn't appear to be breathing. Al knew what to do.

Quickly, he discarded the tortoise and rolled Thimble onto her back. Then he began pumping at her chest.

Wiley watched, confused, but after a moment he realized that Al was performing CPR. This valuable bit of knowledge had appeared in last year's Games too. He had been taught CPR in school, but hadn't been bothered to retain it. He didn't think he would need it in his future line of work.

Suddenly, Thimble came to life and vomited up a lungful of ocean water. She rolled onto her stomach, coughing. Al sat back from his work, looking relieved.

Thimble raised her head tiredly, trying to focus on her comrades. "Al…? Wiley?" She croaked, tucking her wet bangs back. A faint smile creased her lips. "We're alive."

"If you can call it that." Wiley mumbled.

Thimble blinked a few times, slowly returning to reality. The events of today quickly reestablished themselves in her mind. "…Where's Spark?" She asked.

Wiley's eyebrows knitted with concern and he looked to Al.

Al looked away. His face contorted with grief for a brief moment. With a swallow, he quickly composed himself and said, "She fell behind."

Thimble lowered her gaze. Wiley gave a small whimper, his blue eyes wide with dismay. "But she's not really gone, is she?" He asked, voice quivering, "She'll…she'll catch up, won't she?"

Al just gave a shake of his head. He let out a long, trembling sigh and said in a weary voice, "C'mon…we gotta find the canoe."

Thimble wiped Spark from her mind and faced her remaining allies. "I lost my hatchet," She confessed, "I left it back at the canoe."

"I hope we can find it because I've never tried swimming in my life." Wiley said in a timid voice.

_Same here. _Thimble thought dully.

"Don't worry," Al said in all seriousness, "I won't be going anywhere without you guys. We won't rest until we find it."

Suddenly, something came flying through the trees. A parachute was being carried so forcefully by the wind that it blew right past the alliance. But Al was quick on his feet and went racing after it. And it just so happened to be for him as it contained a note from Kalin:

_You'll need this if you want to stay on this island. Block party within reach._

Al couldn't produce a smile, despite the motivational message. He put aside the note and pulled out a necklace with a strange, tiny pack attached to it. Being from District 11, he recognized what it was immediately. On sweltering summer days, lucky workers were given these benefactions.

"Bug repellant." Al told the others, putting it on. "I guess that means this jungle's infested with 'em."

Wiley shuddered. "Oh, wonderful. I hate insects."

"Then let's find the canoe and get out of here as quickly as possible." Al said, waving for the others to follow him.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Zale remained on what used to be the Careers' stronghold. It was clear Ian and Jade were not coming back. And Meredith's lack of presence had finally settled in as the afternoon whittled itself away. Never could Zale have guessed the Games would have gone so differently from what he had imagined.

At least he had his health back. The antidote killed whatever was causing him discomfort. He checked the water bottles and decided that the District 1 Careers must have poisoned one of them. Most likely the one he had scrounged a few drops from. Meredith must have drunk from it before him and the sheer amount of poison killed her so quickly, the antidote was rendered useless. What a sad way for a Career to go. He was sure Meredith would have rather gone out fighting. He knew he would have.

Shakily, Zale began to climb to his feet, gripping his knives. His throat was parched and his stomach empty. The sickness may have passed, but he was still weak. As soon as everyone saw the pictures in the sky, they would figure out that the Career pack had dissolved. They would move in on the island and he wouldn't be strong enough to fend them off.

Zale's vision darkened. The next moment, he was back on the ground, feeling dizzy. The mere act of standing had nearly caused him to pass out.

This small show of weakness caused uncontainable emotion to crash down upon him. He choked back his sorrow, unwilling for the Capitol to see him in such a state. But he had been fighting these feelings for so long. It physically hurt him to do so any longer. The wall he had built and maintained over the years was crumbling.

"Coral, I'm sorry." Zale whispered. He hastily wiped his eyes, knowing she couldn't hear him. Everyone in Panem could hear him, but not her. Because she had spent the past eight years sleeping in her grave.

_I was an idiot, to think I could avenge you. _Zale thought miserably, burying his face into his hands. _I know this isn't what you would have wanted. You wanted me to live the life you couldn't and have a normal childhood. But I was angry and stupid. I lied to myself, saying it was for you. But how could it have been for you when you're DEAD?  
_

_I'm so sick of this. I just want to go home. Please, I just want to go home._

Home, where no friends and no loving sister awaited him. Only two parents that loved what he could do for them. Two parents that would be quick to disown him if he failed. Everything was so unbearably clear now. He should have known the arena would bring these facts to light.

Life suddenly seemed so insignificant. He never realized how little he had until now. But Zale was far from suicidal; the instinctive fear of death would drive him to kill every tribute in this arena. And he would not rest until that Victor's crown rested upon his head. That he swore.

* * *

Green with envy…as the saying goes. It made sense the Gamemakers would think up some humid, thick jungle that was a pain to navigate. After roaming for a long while, the remnants of the Dynamite Alliance were beginning to grow hopeless. For all they knew, the canoe had been destroyed in the wave or had been swept out to sea. But Al remained positive and would not allow them to end their search.

"You can just swim off and leave us if you want." Thimble said bluntly, pushing past leafy fronds, her eyes scanning the ground.

"I wouldn't do that to you," Al said quietly, "I could at least show you a thing or two and we could swim together."

Thimble felt her face heating up. "I can't swim." She said stubbornly, hating to feel like a burden. "I'd rather stay here than go out in those waters. It's too dangerous."

Al opened his mouth to point out that it was dangerous here as well, but Wiley burst out, "Do you hear that?"

Everyone froze where they were. An incessant buzzing caused the air to throb around the three tributes. The sound was growing louder and louder. Wiley placed both hands on Thimble's shoulders and squeezed them. She thought it was a comforting gesture until she looked behind her to see he was only using her as a human shield.

Suddenly, the jungle around them came alive as hundreds of unidentifiable insects came bursting into the clearing. They formed a dark, pulsating cloud that twisted through the air, coming straight for the tributes.

Wiley screamed and shot off before anyone could stop him. Thimble and Al took off a moment later. Al blindly shoved his way through the thick foliage around him, terror pumping adrenaline through his body. He could hear the swarm closing in behind him. He had no idea what they were, but he knew that stopping meant certain death.

He forced his tired muscles to move as fast as possible. But he was so focused on making his way through the greenery, that his eyes did not spy a protruding root. He tripped and hit the ground hard.

The shrill sound of his attackers rang in his ears. Al cowered where he was, preparing to feel pincers or stingers dig into his skin. But nothing happened. He opened his eyes to see the cloud of insects hovering over him, darting in frustrated circles. A moment later, they retreated back the way they had come.

_The necklace! _Al realized. The scent of it had deterred them. He silently scolded himself for running away like a coward and not pausing to think properly. Quickly, he scrambled up and ran in the direction he thought his allies had gone. He heard them before he saw them. Wiley's screams were faint, then cut off abruptly. A louder scream guided him to Thimble's location. He burst out of the undergrowth to find her losing ground. The cloud of threatening insects was nearly upon her and she flailed her arms to fight them off. But Al ran at her, wielding his sponsor gift.

"Thimble!" He shouted, catching her in his arms. She gasped and struggled to escape him.

"What are you doing?!" She screamed hoarsely, wondering why Al would do such a thing. Couldn't he see she was about to be devoured?!

"Shh…look."

Thimble calmed down enough to look up. The insect swarm, once again, had collectively paused as if an invisible force field surrounded Al and Thimble. Again, they surrendered and quickly left the scene.

Thimble trembled in Al's arms. "What just happened?"

Al let her go and drew back to show her the necklace. "I completely forgot I was carrying this." He confessed, his eyes full of shame, "I'm sorry. I should have said something before we all ran off in a panic."

"Don't blame yourself." Thimble said, finally pulling away. "We…we better hurry up and find Wiley."

But the jungle was oddly silent. Wiley's screams had faded a few minutes ago and the two of them fully expected to hear a cannon sound at any moment. The image of his body being devoured by so many insects flashed through Thimble's mind, but she immediately pushed it away. She and Al quickly located Wiley's trail and followed it.

They found him a minute later. He was sprawled on his back, his eyes closed. A thin stream of blood ran down from his nostrils. His body was completely still.

"Wiley…?" Al said quietly, moving towards him cautiously. There was no response. _Still no cannon…_ Al reminded himself, kneeling next to his fallen comrade. He reached out and touched Wiley's arm.

"AH!" Wiley gave a loud gasp and immediately sprang back to life.

The sudden movement shocked Al and Thimble. They had to take a moment to slow their beating hearts as Wiley looked all around him with wide eyes.

"Am I alive?" He asked in all seriousness. He studied his hands doubtfully.

Al gave a relieved sigh. "Yeah, all three of us are, man. By the way, you got a little something…" He signaled to Wiley's bloody nose.

Wiley reached up and wiped at it. The sight of blood on his hand caused panic to flare through him. "Oh no! I…I must have run into a tree and blacked out! You don't think it's fatal, do you?"

Thimble refrained from rolling her eyes. "Nosebleeds from trees aren't usually fatal. Just lean your head back or something. You'll be fine."

"No, don't do that!" Al said quickly, "That's supposed to be unhealthy. Lean forward and pinch it."

Wiley looked to each of his allies in confusion. "Well what am I supposed to do?!"

He wound up going with Al's suggestion. Luckily, it was the right one. While Wiley attempted to stifle the blood, Al and Thimble shared a quiet conversation about the strange bugs.

"What do you suppose they were?" Thimble wondered, thinking of all the previous Games. She hadn't seen too many insect muttations in her time, but she knew of a few. "Mosquitos? Trackerjackers?"

"They seemed like flies to me. Mayflies." Al said, scratching his head nervously. He had gotten a good look at the bugs when they paused to flit above him. Their bodies were long with strange hair-like protuberances on the end. At first he had thought they were trackerjackers, but their bodies weren't quite the same. They also flew in a different motion. "Those guys are pests."

Thimble frowned. "Do they eat all the food in District 11 or something?"

"Nah, adult mayflies don't eat. Just the larvae. Their lifespans are incredibly short. Which makes it a pretty strange choice for a muttation…I think it might be something else. But at least we'll be able to steer clear as long as we stick together," Al pointed to his necklace with a small grin. Then he turned his attention back to Wiley. "How you feeling, man?"

"My head feels like someone filled it with lead and my nose won't stop bleeding. But I'll live." Wiley groaned, his clogged nose affecting his voice. He paused, realizing what he just said, and added, "Well, I'll live until some angry tribute or mutt decides to off me, anyways."

* * *

Meredith, Spark, Ian, and Jade.

From the swamp island, Sagitta watched The Fallen play out in the sky. She had come there and found a secluded spot among the mangrove trees. Now she was perched on a high root, emotionlessly watching each face appear.

Never would have Sagitta guessed that three out of the four deaths were Careers. It was a shocking discovery. In the end, she had left at precisely the right time. Now it was just her and Zale. If she killed Zale, this competition was in the bag. And he was weak anyways…what was his score again? Seven? How pathetic.

The parachute that came to her after that did nothing to minimize her ego. She secretly hoped for some sort of weapon or sustenance, but she couldn't be dissatisfied with the gift.

At first glance, it appeared to be a simple camouflage hoodie. But a thrill coursed through her when she realized what it was capable of. Like chameleon skin, the material of the hoodie could absorb the color off its surroundings. With this, Sagitta could blend in with the landscape better and sneak up on her prey. It would be useful for remaining hidden at night as well.

Sagitta pulled on the hoodie, snuggling into it. It was extremely comfortable and shielded her from the cool night air. She closed her eyes blissfully.

The Capitol was rooting for her. The very thought sent excitement pulsing within her. Only six more left to die and they would never see her coming. An arrow for each of them, plus one extra. Victory was in her grasp, so close that she could almost taste it. She couldn't keep her mind from fantasizing about her perfect win. She imagined the Victor's crown resting atop her head and moving into the Victor's Village with her father. Her sisters would accompany her, of course, and perhaps even Cosmic. After talking to Ian, she was willing to give the little boy a chance. Perhaps not all men were monsters...

With visions of the future in her mind, Sagitta made herself comfortable and prepared for a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, she would begin the hunt, with Zale at the top of her hit list.

* * *

Finding the canoe in the jungle was hard. Finding food was even harder. There was an assortment of berries and mushrooms, but the tributes were unwilling to take the gamble and eat them. Al dug up some tubers for everyone to partake in and they drank what water they found on leaves, but that was the little sustenance they acquired.

Now it was dark. Wiley had lit a fire before the sun went down for good. Wrath continued to smoke, but the wind had calmed considerably. Still, they took shelter in some strange ruins found at the center of Envy. Their fire was nestled among the rubble, well out of sight. The three tributes kept close, warming their hands in the cool night air.

Other than the chirp of strange insects and croaking of frogs, the night was quiet. Not even Al or Wiley could find anything to say. For the longest time, they sat in silence, absorbed in their thoughts.

Behind his cracked glasses, Wiley's eyes grew shiny with tears. He spoke abruptly. "Spark—" But his voice broke and he shut his mouth.

Both Al and Thimble looked at him, their expressions saddening.

Wiley took a moment to swallow, then tried again. "I never…n-never got to thank Spark…I know I said I didn't like her cause she always bossed me around, but I never would have made it this far if she hadn't…if she hadn't cared so much." Wiley blinked, causing the tears to break free and stream down his face. "I don't know what I'm going to do without her."

"We've still got each other." Al said quietly, his voice failing as well. He tried to laugh it off, but he couldn't hold back the sob that escaped. He lowered his eyes so that the others couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. But his shoulders were visibly shaking.

Thimble looked at each of the boys, their faces flickering in the firelight. She shared their grief. But there was some other terrible feeling inside her that shamed her to no end. Spark's death made her feel…_relieved_. She no longer had to feel that sickening amount of envy. Spark was brilliant and beautiful; from the sound of it, she had grown up with a wealthy lifestyle. And she had Al fawning over her constantly. Her life was not flawed in the way Thimble's was.

All of this made her glad Spark was gone. She felt horrible for it…but she couldn't stop herself from feeling this way. Disgusted, Thimble bowed her head and gave into her grief as well.

For the longest time, the three of them sobbed and sniffled. The wildlife around them seemed to have quieted, sharing a moment of silence for the sorrowful tributes.

"Jade and Ian too," Al spoke up quite suddenly, "I never would have wished death on them under normal circumstances. Never."

"It had to be done," Thimble said weakly, "They would have killed us if given the chance."

"I know." Al murmured.

Despite feeling less sadness over the Careers compared to Spark, the three tributes were still upset with themselves. Ian and Jade may have been raised as killing machines, but they were still human. They had families that would grieve. They had aspirations…aspirations that had easily been extinguished at the moment their lives were lost.

All of this mourning made Al feel sick to his stomach. He just wanted to forget about it. With a deep sigh, he tried to clear his face of sadness and change the subject. He brought up better times. His eyes misted over as he spoke of his beloved family and friends. Thimble listened intently, clinging to every word. Wiley wordlessly stared into the fire, his expression blank.

"There are plenty of beaches in District 11," Al said fondly, "My family's pretty well off, I guess. Sometimes we'd just head to the nearest beach with our relatives and spend the day fishing and talking about stupid stuff for hours. Of course, we rarely ever caught anything…but the memories made it worth it."

Thimble nodded. "Your family reminds me of mine."

"How so?"

A smile edged its way onto Thimble's face. "My family has always been on the poor side of the spectrum, but that never stopped us from throwing parties for the smallest things. Birthday parties, final Reaping years…you name it."

Al laughed. "That sounds fun! I wouldn't mind going to a Paylor party."

Thimble couldn't stop a giggle from escaping. She felt pleased that Al cared enough to remember her last name. "We would always invite lots of people, even those we didn't know too well. Food was always hard to come by in the weeks that followed, but it was worth it, to see everyone so happy…" She trailed off.

"Well how nice for you." Wiley said in a cold voice, "How nice! That everything is _so_ fine and dandy for you, y'know, back in your own happy little worlds." The fire burned in his eyes, causing him to look uncharacteristically angry.

Al and Thimble exchanged a surprised glance.

"I wouldn't say everything's fine and dandy. After all, we're in the Hunger Games, aren't we?" Al said reasonably.

Wiley was silent for a moment. His expression softened slightly. "Sorry, mate." He said with a deep sigh, "I'm feeling a bit under the weather after that tree catastrophe. And hearing all this stuff about home…it's not helping. Not one bit."

"You're welcome to talk about your family." Al offered, completely misinterpreting Wiley's distaste.

Once again, Wiley's mouth tightened into a thin line and his eyes narrowed. "You want to know about my family, do you?" He said in a low voice.

"If it'll make you feel better." Thimble said hesitantly. "Otherwise we could talk about something else."

Wiley gave a dry laugh. "Ha! No, love, it's fine. I'm probably gonna be dead soon, so you should know why I'm here. My family…specifically my dad_…_he basically sold me into the Hunger Games and took the money for himself and his company. There's my happy story. The end."

"What?" Al couldn't have looked more confused. "What do you mean? Is that even possible?"

A wry smile worked its way across Wiley's face. "Oh, it's possible. And I'll tell you how he does it: he makes me and my brothers take out loads of tesserae. But instead of using it for our family, he sells it to poorer families. Poor families who value their children and are willing to sacrifice _everything_ to protect them! And even then, all of the money goes into saving that worthless, bankrupt company of his! Corr Laboratories!"

Wiley's voice rose in desperation and he was suddenly on his feet, his eyes wild.

"And y'know what he said to me? Th…the last thing he told me before I left for the Games…he said I had no chance so wh-why not just forfeit all of my sponsor money to his company? I almost did as he said…I almost asked for it in the interview…but I couldn't go through with it!"

Al's eyes were wide and sympathetic. "Man, I had no idea. I'm so sorry—"

"He wanted me to throw away anything that would help my survival for his bloody company!" Wiley burst out, tears pricking his eyes. His face twisted in agony. "And for the longest time, I did everything he said. I had my name in that Reaping ball forty-two times because he promised Corr Laboratories would be mine. All I ever wanted to do was follow in my dad's footsteps. I kept sacrificing for him so I could make that dream a reality…but on the day of the Reaping, he said I wasn't cut out for it! Nope. I'm just a bloody MORON!"

"Wiley—" Thimble struggled to find a way to comfort him. But her and Al's words fell on deaf ears.

"But I am _not _a moron!" Wiley screamed. The words echoed through the silent jungle around them. For a moment, no one said anything. Wiley just stood there panting, glaring into the fire.

"Of course not," Al said softly, "The dynamite plan was all your idea and it worked."

Wiley rounded on Al, eyes wide with hurt. "So you're saying I killed Spark, are you? And those two Careers? Y…You're trying to pin it all on me?"

"He's not!" Thimble said heatedly, "He was just trying to comfort you, Wiley."

"Comfort." Wiley echoed, "Fat lot of good that does me. I'm…I'm already dead, aren't I? I was dead as soon as I agreed to put in for tesserae…as soon as I decided I wanted to save Corr Laboratories."

He turned away, his body trembling.

"Now if you'll excuse me…I do believe I'll be going to bed. Please don't bring this up again. I don't want to talk about it."

**RIP Meredith, Spark, Ian, and Jade.**

**Meredith: I know hers was a quiet death, but not every single one can be blood and gore. In fact, I'm willing to bet a high percentage of tributes in the Hunger Games have died quiet deaths from poison, starvations, exposure, etc. My stories always seem to lack those because I stray on the unrealistic side of things…okay not THAT unrealistic, I don't have tributes coming back to life as zombies, right? There's just an abundance of humor and action deaths and self-healing wounds and people knowing how to swim with little experience. But enough on that. Meredith had a very detailed profile so I hope I did a good job of squeezing everything in and grasping her personality. I was happy to have her, since she was a true competitor. I'm sure she helped inspire District 4 to get back on top and train their tributes after that. And you've gotta admit…the Jabberjay realization was a good moment. **

**Spark: There were some mixed opinions on her…many expected her to go early. But she didn't because I liked her. I thought she was the perfect partner for Wiley. He needed someone to lead him…heck, the entire Dynamite Alliance did. I really enjoyed her relationship with Al as well—and pretty much every interaction of this fearsome foursome. Did I really just say that…well; they are high on my list of favorites. I wish I could keep them around forever, but of course I can't, not when this is the Hunger Games. Spark, you will continue to be mourned. Many will be certain to miss you.**

**Ian: Auhhh…Ian…IANNNN! Yes he was one of my favorite tributes in case you haven't noticed. I considered making him the victor, but I felt like that might have been expected since I've continuously favored the D1 male spot in the past. Plus, I couldn't see him going on without Jade. He really did have feelings for her, and that's the reason he broke up with her—he couldn't nail himself down, not if he wanted to keep climbing up the social ladder as his mother had. I believe Ian went through some of the best character development in the story. I usually rip lovers apart, but this time I decided to keep them together. It was a much more noble end for him rather than winning and either losing his mind or becoming a sex slave.**

**Jade: I was very picky about the female profile for District 1, but Jade was the perfect match for Ian, thanks to her clever creator coordinating with Ian's author. Jade x Ian is one of my favorite couples and I really loved writing Jade's mix of emotions. She held a grudge towards Ian for leaving her, but she couldn't quite shake her attraction to him. I'm sure many girls have gone through the same thing. If only they lived in a different world, then maybe the two of them could have worked out. At least they could be together in death.**


	35. A Simple Facade

A light rain descended on the arena that night, cooling the islands. Most all of the tributes had a safe place to stay. Hours passed by, calm and uneventful. Zale was sponsored food and water, finally. Slowly, he began to regain his strength. Meanwhile, Sagitta plotted the demise of her enemies. Buck and Claire took turns keeping watch.

On Envy, Wiley remained awake late into the night. He feared to close his eyes for just one second. While his allies slept nearby, he sat there and shivered. He had already woken them up three times and he didn't fancy being reprimanded again.

But he couldn't help it. He was deathly afraid of the strange eyes that had come to stare at them while they slept. At first, he had nearly bolted again, but the three of them found out there was no danger. These…muttations, or whatever they were, only existed to stare enviously out from the dark cover of the jungle. Still, Wiley was convinced they were waiting to dismember him in his sleep.

It didn't help they found strange carvings on the ruins they were sheltering by. The intricate images formed little rows of people, their tiny mouths twisted open in silent screams of pain. Each one seemed a little bit different from the next...Wiley was convinced the carvings were meant to represent the tributes. But Thimble had scoffed that it was just his imagination. Still, he could feel their sightless eyes on him, along with the glowing ones of the many muttations.

So he refused to close his eyes, no matter how tired he was. He stayed awake for a long time, teeth chattering, staring into the glowing eyes that surrounded him. Were they getting closer? He couldn't tell. Perhaps it was just his own eyes playing tricks on him. His brain felt like it was pounding on his skull. He desperately needed sleep. He needed to relieve himself of everything that had happened that day.

But tonight, that just wasn't going to happen.

* * *

It was tough waking up that morning. With a yawn, Thimble stretched her sore muscles and listened to the resounding crack of her bones. Wiping at her greasy forehead, she could feel all of the pimples that had finally reformed on her face. Well, it had been nice while it lasted. She forced open her eyes, only to see that her two allies were sound asleep in the dim light of the jungle.

"Hey!" She hissed, jabbing each of them with a finger, "Who was keeping guard?"

Al awoke groggily. "I don't know. Nobody ever woke me up."

Thimble prodded Wiley awake. She noticed his eyes had deep purple bags under them as they blinked open. For a moment, Wiley just stared at Thimble, his eyes dull with incomprehension. When he didn't say anything, Thimble reminded him, "You fell asleep on watch. We could have been attacked by those weird monsters we saw last night."

Al didn't seem too concerned. "At least we're alive, right?" He shrugged.

"Where's Spark?" Wiley asked sleepily.

The words hit the other two like a blow and they winced. Al searched for words, but grief choked him. He looked away. Thimble just studied Wiley, waiting for him to remember everything on his own.

After a moment, it all came rushing back. Spark was dead. How could he have forgotten so easily? Wiley's stomach seized up and he gave a moan of pain. "I don't feel so good…"

"What's wrong-?" Al started to ask, but Wiley cut him off with a strangled gag. He got up and stumbled a few feet away. Then he keeled over and began throwing up.

Al and Thimble averted their eyes.

"I think we should go look for food," Al told Thimble loudly, trying to drown out the sound of Wiley's retching. "And maybe try searching for the canoe again too."

Thimble nodded eagerly, wanting to get far away from the stench of vomit that permeated the air. Hurriedly, the two left the scene in search of food and water, leaving Wiley to deal with his sickness.

* * *

Sagitta had woken up early and made her way to the neighboring island, planning to raid the pirate ship and take what she could find. What she found was even better than expected: the two tributes from District 10. They seemed to be low on supplies, but they had a blown-up raft they were using to journey between islands. Sagitta was sick of swimming. Drifting in a raft would be a nice change of pace.

Keeping her lithe body low to the ground, Sagitta began to creep through the dune grass. Her jacket quickly blended with its surroundings and she couldn't help but smirk. Then her stomach growled loudly, so loud she feared it would give away her position. But District 10 was a good ways off, standing by the water, arguing over some silly topic. Sagitta moved quickly whenever their voices blocked out all other sounds.

Apparently, the two of them had made some sort of bet on who could get the most sponsors. The girl was going on about a food basket she had received, while the boy just brushed off everything she said with a scowl. After a moment, Sagitta realized she recognized that whiny tone of voice. It was the self-righteous little snot that had preached to her about killing others in training. Claire.

Sagitta's lip curled slightly. _Who blew their money on HER?_

They were about to regret that decision. Normally, Sagitta would have sunk her first arrow into the rough-looking male. But she had a grudge to eliminate. Besides, if Buck dropped dead, Claire would throw up that shield of hers and make things more difficult. Yes, Claire had to die first.

Silently, Sagitta slipped an arrow out of her quiver and pulled it taut. Even though she made nary a sound, the two District 10 tributes stiffened and looked around warily.

"Do you hear that?" Buck asked sharply.

Sagitta was entirely focused on aiming. She almost didn't process the sound of someone slinking through the dune grass, like a lion stalking its prey. Not until they started running straight at her did she react.

She spun around with a fierce shriek, aiming to release her arrow at her assailant. As if she wasn't even there, Zale leaped right over her and made a beeline for the two District 10 tributes. His eyes were alight with rejuvenation and two knives flashed in his hands.

Claire went limp with fear. With little time to grab the gasoline or his matches, Buck tore the shield from his partner's grasp and ran to meet Zale.

"Don't!" Claire screamed.

Suddenly, something whizzed right past her and pierced the raft. The sound of air escaping reached Claire's ears. Sagitta had taken advantage of Zale's momentary distraction and was now coming for Claire, stringing another arrow. Claire dove for cover, shouting for Buck.

But he was going head to head with Zale. Using all of his momentum, Buck sprinted forward with the shield thrown up in front of him. Zale slowed slightly, realizing that he had no opening, but by then it was too late to turn back. Buck barreled into him at full force, shoving him off his feet.

Zale scrabbled to get up and stab his attacker, but the uneven sand beneath threw him off. He only managed to land a small hit on the back of his exposed hand. Buck raised the shield, preparing to bash the Career's head in. Zale braced himself for the blow. But then a piercing scream sounded from the raft.

Another arrow had sunk into its soft surface, just narrowly missing Claire. Sagitta was coming closer and closer. Another few yards, and she would have a clear shot.

Buck abandoned Zale in the sand and went after Sagitta. Realizing that he couldn't make it there in time, he brought back the shield and heaved it towards the Career with all his might. The shield cut through the air like a heavy frisbee; Sagitta heard it before she saw it, but she was one second too slow.

The shield bowled her off her feet, digging into her back and forcing her down. She let out a frustrated cry as Buck streaked past her and leaped into the raft.

"Let's get outta here!" He roared, pushing it away from the shore. The sound of air escaping the vessel could still be heard, but District 10 remained afloat as they took off in the direction of the forested island.

Zale watched from his position in the sand, panting. Now that his adrenaline rush was gone, he realized he was still in the process of recovering his strength. But the battle was not yet over. He trained a careful eye on Sagitta, who had gotten up and wildly shot an arrow after the escaping alliance. It completely missed its target. Sagitta let out a loud curse, but didn't pursue her prey.

While she was distracted, Zale crept up and took the shield out from right under her. She whirled around and aimed one of her remaining arrows at him, looking furious. In the same instant, he threw up the shield, hardly daring to peek over the edge of it.

"Wait," He said firmly, trying to inject some amount of friendliness into his voice, "Let's talk."

Sagitta narrowed her eyes with distrust. "There's nothing to talk about." She said, beginning to walk in a slow circle around him, trying to get a clear shot.

Zale moved with her, keeping the shield between them. "Yes there is," He said calmly, "And you know it. If you didn't want to hear what I have to say, you would have shot me in the leg by now."

"What a great idea!" Sagitta snorted, suddenly taking aim at his exposed legs.

Zale stopped where he was and waited for the arrow to pierce his flesh. But for some reason, Sagitta was hesitating. He refrained from smirking. Perhaps the arena had changed even her. He took the brief opportunity to say, "Reform the Career alliance with me."

"Is that all?" Sagitta said, pulling the bowstring taut.

With a flash of frustration, Zale realized he was not going to be able to get her to lower her weapon. Sagitta prepared to release the arrow. But then her former ally's voice took on a strange, new quality. "Do you want to know something interesting?" He asked faintly, more as if he were talking to himself than to her.

Sagitta remained silent for a moment, contemplating just ending it now. Instead, she humored Zale. Sponsors enjoyed banter, after all. "What?" She asked through gritted teeth.

"Eight years ago…my sister was killed by the District 2 female…and she used a bow and arrows too."

_How fitting, _is what Sagitta wanted to say. But before she could, Zale drove his body forward and rammed the shield into Sagitta. It was just had Buck had done to him only a minute ago. It knocked the bow from her hands.

But instead of crumpling under its weight, Sagitta fought back. She was taller than Zale and had more training. She locked her hands around the shield and began to wrestle it from him. It came as a surprise when she was able to easily tear it away from him. But that was only because he was wielding it with one hand—the other one held a knife.

Zale slashed his blade at Sagitta, cutting a shallow cut on her cheek. She leapt back, quickly crouching low in the sand and slipping her hand into her boot. Her fingers closed around a small dagger she had concealed there from the beginning. But with such short-ranged weapons, the fight turned into a hand-to-hand brawl.

Like two snarling animals, the Careers writhed on the ground, each trying to stab the other's throat. Zale's knife caught Sagitta's jacket and tore the fabric. She bit back a curse, but was grateful it wasn't her skin. Despite all her training, Zale was somehow holding her attacks at bay. If only she could put distance between the two of them, she could send an arrow right into his skull.

She brought back her arm and drove the sharp part of her elbow into his temple. For a moment, Zale saw stars, but that only made him more determined. He bore his weight down on Sagitta, pinning her to the ground and aiming to drive his knife right into her neck.

Sagitta groped for the discarded shield and dragged it towards her just in time. In the same moment, she drove her knee into his stomach, knocking the air out of him.

Finally, she was able to force her assailant off. Zale scrambled to his feet while Sagitta dove for her bow. But as soon as she was up and aiming, Zale was running away. He knew this fight wasn't going anywhere and he was losing strength fast.

"Get back here, coward!" Sagitta snarled, racing after him.

Zale didn't even look back. He disappeared inside the pirate ship before Sagitta could shoot him. She nearly followed him in too; but then she realized what a poor decision that would be. Zale could be waiting for her right on the other side. He would have the advantage and besides, it was too dangerous to fight in such a setting.

Scowling, Sagitta paced back and forth outside the gaping hole. "If you're a man, you'll come out and fight me!"

There was no response. Zale rested just on the inside, his body tense. If Sagitta stepped inside, he was prepared for her. But she remained outside and continued to taunt him.

"Don't you want to follow in your sister's footsteps?" She said icily, "I'm sure she would be proud if you did."

Zale boiled with rage, but not even that could sway him. Eventually, Sagitta decided this fight would have to be saved for another time. She fingered her torn jacket. It would still keep her hidden. She could sneak up on Zale when he least expected it.

With this comforting thought in mind, she walked back to the former battlegrounds and looked for any discarded arrows. She could only locate the one she had dropped when Zale attacked. That meant there were four left. Not good enough.

_Now what? _Sagitta's gaze drifted towards the next island in line. Her cheek stung in an irritating fashion. She supposed she could go hunting, but she was feeling incredibly thirsty. Water would have to come first.

* * *

As they sailed towards Gluttony, District 10's pink raft sunk further and further into the water. Finally, it ran out of air and beached itself on the fire coral, not far from their destination. Buck just relaxed in the shallow water on top of the deflated vessel, nursing a cut on his hand from Zale. Claire stood nervously next to him, unwilling to step on the dangerous-looking coral.

"We have to keep going," She said urgently, "The Careers could be right behind us! And your cut might attract sharks or some other awful muttation."

"Oh, well I'll just stop bleedin' then!" Buck snapped, trying his best to stifle the blood.

Claire ignored him, attempting to rifle through her backpack without dipping it into the water. But they had run out of most necessities, save for their matches and gasoline. And now, they had lost her shield, the closest thing they had to a weapon. "Well…it's not too deep. I think you'll be fine." She decided, eyeing his small wound, "But can we please leave?"

"Sure, if you're willin' to carry me." Buck said, raising a foot to remind her he had no shoes, "I don't fancy steppin' on that sharp-lookin' coral any more'n you do."

Claire thought for a moment, looking at the deflated raft beneath them. "Maybe we can move along while keeping this under us." She decided.

Buck shrugged. "Worth a try."

Together, the two hoisted the edges of the raft up and embarked on a very slow procession towards Gluttony.

* * *

Thimble noticed a change had come over each of her allies within the past day.

Al, who had always been cracking terrible jokes and flirtations, had finally ceased doing so. His eyelids drooped with fatigue and he barely smiled as they searched the jungle for food and water. His stocky frame was also thinner than ever, his tight-clinging wetsuit pronouncing this fact.

She figured she must have looked just like him. Under her suit, she could feel her ribs pushing against a thin layer of flesh. Her stomach had become a shriveled leaf and her throat felt like sandpaper. As she swiped her tongue over her teeth, she could feel a grimy layer of plaque had formed.

But no one was worse off than Wiley.

Out on their own, Al had mentioned something about post-traumatic stress disorder. A tribute in last year's Hunger Games had suffered from this and been haunted by a number of hallucinations. It was strange to behold. But Wiley's behavior was not quite the same. He was not interacting with invisible demons; at least, not yet.

Despite the humidity of the evening, Wiley trembled by their burnt-out fire. He kept blinking oddly as a cold sweat ran down his face. With no blanket to wrap him in, he could only clutch at his arms pathetically. "I feel so awful," He moaned, sniffling, "And it's getting worse. This is bad. Bad, bad, bad…! And what's that awful smell? _Please_ make it go away…feels like my nostrils are on fire, it does..."

Al couldn't smell anything. "Do you need me to get you some water?" He asked, knowing full well that his ally couldn't keep anything down. There was little they could do for Wiley and no one cared enough to sponsor him something for his flu. Seeing his condition worsen over the course of the day hurt to watch.

Wiley's blue eyes were wide and glassy. "This is because I challenged the Gamemakers." He muttered to himself, continuing to blink. "I never should have said anything. I should have left you all to die. What was I thinking? I really am a bloody lunatic…it's the godforsaken Hunger Games, for crying out loud…should have left you all to die…" His mumbling became incoherent after that.

Al and Thimble exchanged a glance. It was as if they were no longer there.

"Let's go," Al decided suddenly.

"Go where?" Thimble asked, shooting a tentative glance at Wiley, who had fallen silent.

"To look for the canoe."

"But we've looked twice already." Thimble sighed, knowing full well that they were stranded here. If Al were smart, he'd stop acting so optimistic and ditch them already. Maybe he was just waiting for the opportunity. _Fine, if he wants to leave, then let him. _"You know what? I'll go look for it myself. You stay here with Wiley in case he needs anything."

She turned and began walking away, but Al easily caught up to her and fell in step beside her. "You shouldn't be out in the jungle alone." He stated firmly.

"You're leaving Wiley in the jungle alone!" Thimble shot back.

Wiley perked up, as if he had finally become aware of his companions' presence. "You're leaving me?" He asked, face filling with fright.

"Just to look for the canoe," Al said quickly, trying to force a grin, "Thimble was gonna look on her own, but there ain't no way I'm letting a lady go off into the dangerous jungle all alone!"

Thimble glowered at Al. "I'm not a lady."

But Al insisted on accompanying her, and she dropped the argument. As much as she hated to admit it, she ached for his company. At the same time, she didn't want to be around him. She was growing to care about the idiot. The very thought of his death made her want to start crying…a notion that made her blush with discomfort. Al probably wouldn't care a whit about her dying. He was too obsessed with "Sparky." She felt that familiar pluck of jealousy. But Spark was long gone; there was no reason to feel this way.

_I'm a terrible person, _Thimble thought sadly as the two headed out into the jungle together for their third trek. The sky was growing darker as the sun set. Soon, the anthem would play, but there would be no faces to show in the sky.

For a long time, Thimble remained trapped in her miserable thoughts. Al allowed the silence to stretch between them for a few minutes. It was practically a record for him.

Then finally, he spoke up. "I'm sorry about the other night." He said quietly.

Thimble looked at him in surprise. "What?"

An embarrassed grin appeared on Al's face for a fleeting moment, and then quickly fell away. He let out a deep sigh. "The crying. I didn't mean to get so worked up…it's just hard acting like there's nothing wrong all the time, y'know?"

"It's okay," Thimble said softly, "You're human. I'd be more concerned if you didn't cry."

Al smiled and reached over to give Thimble a pat on the back. "You know what, you're right. Thanks, Thimble."

"You're welco—"

"I wish I had you for a sister! You're one cool kid." Al said with a flash of his old spirit.

For some reason, this statement made her really mad. _A sister? Seriously?_ She bit back a snarky retort and allowed Al to begin rambling on about his family. He went on about how he was an only child, but got along well with the girls in his best friend's family. He always wanted siblings, especially a little sister or two.

But Thimble's mind was still planted on their earlier conversation. There was something else Al had said that didn't sit well with her. What was it…? 'It's just hard acting like there's nothing wrong all the time.'

This reminded her of someone: Kalin. Last year's victor. The older boy always had on a friendly façade and gathered a huge, family-like alliance with his charismatic persona. But when it came down to it, he was as willing to kill as any Career. He destroyed the people that had trusted him without batting an eyelash.

_And he's mentor to Al, _Thimble realized, suddenly feeling cold. All of her former misgivings came rushing back. He was a compulsive liar. He had said he and Kalin were close. Perhaps Kalin had trained him to act incredibly friendly, use an alliance for his benefit, and then kill them off.

Her insides screamed. Just like Amara, she had been blinded by charm. The only reason Al was sticking around was so he could finish what he had started. And here she was, alone with him in the jungle.

"Hey, you okay?"

Al's voice snapped her back to reality. She realized she had stopped in her tracks and was standing frozen. Al reached a hand towards her.

"Get away from me!" Thimble shrieked, flinching. She began taking fast steps backwards.

Al merely stood there, looking confused. "Huh?"

"How could you?" Thimble choked out, "You're using us, just like Kalin did! He taught you all about how he manipulated his alliance! I…I won't fall for it!" She tensed her body to run, but Al still didn't move.

He held up his hands defensively, looking hurt that she would suggest such a thing. "No I'm not, I swear! What makes you think I would?"

"What you just said," Thimble replied breathlessly, "About how you're always acting."

Al furiously shook his head. "Seriously? I didn't mean anything by it!" His voice began to rise, but then he stopped and composed himself. After a deep breath, Al said in an even voice, "I only act the way I do because I'm trying not to think about what the future holds. Because…I know I can't win the Hunger Games. I'm not the kind of victor the Capitol wants. But it doesn't matter! In the end, there's no real victor. There will _never _be a real victor."

Thimble studied him with suspicious eyes. "What do you mean?" She asked.

Al hesitated to tell her everything. Most likely, this conversation was being censored. And he still had that dreadful feeling that the Capitol knew of the business his parents ran. They knew he was a thief and deserved nothing less than death for his crimes. But there was the smallest chance they didn't know. And so he would continue to protect them in the only way that he could.

"Look...I'm just not a good person, Thimble." Al said simply and left it at that.

It was too vague for Thimble to grasp. "So? Bad people win all the time." She said with a huff.

Al didn't respond.

"…If that's the best defense you've got, then I'm leaving." Thimble decided, turning to go.

"Wait!" Al said in a panicked voice, "Listen! Do you hear that?"

Thimble fell silent. Immediately, she heard it: the sound of hundreds of creatures chewing their way through the thick jungle. Seconds later, they appeared from the foliage. A wave of army ants, unfurling along the ground like a red carpet, their sharp mandibles held high. The sheer number of them was enough to strike fear into Al and Thimble.

"Run!" He shouted, turning and sprinting away.

Despite her misgivings, Thimble followed him, screaming, "Wait! Your necklace!"

"I have a feeling it isn't going to work this time," Al gasped, grabbing Thimble's hand and helping her over a log. The ants were pursuing them rapidly. The Gamemakers had most likely stuck them in as a new addition after Al received his sponsor gift. They clearly didn't approve of the conversation the tributes were having. So the two of them ran, preferring to be safe rather than sorry.

Suddenly, a horde of scorpions dropped out of the trees from above. Thimble screamed, dodging around the disgusting newcomers. One landed on Al's wiry head of hair, but he quickly slapped it off. The scorpions plopped onto the ground, but before they could skitter away, the oncoming ants engulfed them. The scorpions struggled to escape, but the ants overpowered them, spreading dissolving acid and dicing their prey at the same time. The scorpions stopped struggling and fell still. The ants raced past and continued their pursuit of the tributes.

Al and Thimble pressed on, their breaths coming in ragged pants. In the dim light, Al spotted a ravine ahead. Without even stopping to think, he bunched his muscles and flew across the wide gap. Thimble didn't react quickly enough.

The ground fell out beneath her and she pitched forward. With a strangled cry, she flung her arms up and caught the edge of the cliff. At the bottom of the drop-off lay a trickling stream. Behind her, the ants were coming closer and closer, their tiny pinschers clicking threateningly.

"Al!" Thimble gasped.

Al slowed his steps, realizing that she had fallen behind. He turned to come back for her. A vision flashed through Thimble's mind—the memory of Kalin pulling Amara to safety only to strangle her to death.

"Just keep going!" Thimble screamed fearfully, trying to haul herself up, "I'll be fine!"

Al's heart ached at the memory of Spark. She had told him to keep going too…those were the last words she had said to him. Unwilling to lose another ally, Al knelt by Thimble and worked his arms around her.

"No! Go away!" She shrieked desperately, struggling to escape his grip. "Let go of me!"

Al held on tightly and easily pulled her to safety. Thimble prepared to feel his hands at her throat, but nothing happened. He merely sat beside her, taking fast breaths. They were out of the ants' reach. They were safe…for now.

"You okay?" Al asked, trying to give Thimble a reassuring grin.

Thimble stared at him warily. "You're not going to kill me, then?"

Al chuckled. "Only if you ask me nicely."

Thimble was about to comment on how unfunny that was, when her eyes fell on something lying in the grass nearby. "Is that…is that my hatchet?"

Al's mouth popped open in pleasant surprise. Thimble darted forward and snatched it, feeling much better with a weapon in her hands. If Al wanted her dead, perhaps he would have killed her already. But now he would have one heck of a time doing it.

Of course, Al had no intentions of strangling his 'adopted sister.' He was hurrying past her, his gaze fixated on something else.

"The canoe!" He burst out.

Thimble gave a muffled squeal of delight, then immediately felt ridiculous for it. But seeing the canoe, lying capsized among the greenery, was a wonderful sight. "How did it even get this far in?" She wondered, stepping forward and touching it to make sure it was real.

"Who cares?" Al laughed, grinning from ear to ear, "We can finally leave!" He wrapped his arms around the boat and hugged it, sighing, "I'll never leave you again. I promise."

Thimble refrained from laughing. He looked totally ridiculous. Part of her wondered why she had ever doubted him.

Suddenly, Al straightened up and turned to Thimble, his features growing serious. "Thimble…" He said slowly. His eyebrow creased with a slight amount of guilt and he frowned. "Don't say anything to Wiley about this, okay?"

"Okay," Thimble agreed rather quickly. For some reason, this declaration didn't shock her. She knew Al had been entertaining the same idea as her: it was time to leave their ally behind.

"He's sick," Al murmured, lowering his eyes sadly, "And as much as I don't want to, I think we're going to have to leave him to fend for himself. We can't throw away our health at a time like this."

Thimble nodded. "You're right."

Al's smile returned, but this time it wasn't nearly as genuine. "I'm glad you think so. Anyways, let's leave this here for now and take a different route back to camp. We'll leave early in the morning, when Wiley's sleeping."

"Sounds good." Thimble said, casually swinging the hatchet in her hand. "After all, if we tell him, he might take it hard. I don't think I could deal with that."

"Me either." Al admitted. After a pause, he added, "You know, if you think the two of us should split up, I'm fine with that. There are only seven left, after all."

Thimble felt her chest grow tight at his suggestion. She was torn. She couldn't trust Al completely and knew they would have to part at some point. But she didn't want that. She wasn't ready to say goodbye.

"Let's focus on getting off this island first," She said carefully, "Then we'll work that out."

Al was pleased with the idea. "Right!" He decided, "We'll take it one step at a time. Just like we always do."

Together, the two of them headed back to their camp, taking the long way around. The beach gave them a clear view of the sky. It was another beautiful sunset—followed by a faceless broadcast. There were no deaths to speak of on this day.

Blissfully, the seven remaining tributes prepared for another long night.

**Leave a review if you approved of Buck's Captain America (Captain Panem?) moment. I would have named this chapter The Buckvengers, but you guys are taking the story more seriously than I am, probably.  
**


	36. Corruption

**I'm so super proud of this chapter title, man you don't even know! Just look at it! Look at it in all of its glory! Do you get it? Do you? I'm sure someone gets it. C'mon, somebody point out why it's so great. Help me out. Okay, despite the awesome title, this is still a short chapter and I'm sorry about that. But you know you gotta end on specific notes sometimes. I'll tell you a fun story to make up for it!  
**

**I adopted and raised this orphaned catbird I named Wheatley and he entered the wild earlier this week. But he isn't so quick to forget his roots because when I walk outside, he'll fly over and perch on my shoulder. And yesterday an older catbird was harassing him, but I came over and Wheatley got on my shoulder. And I was just like "you came to the wrong neighborhood, mothereffer." Because I'm a hardcore bird whisperer, but not hardcore enough to swear. End story. **

**Err I should probably mention I finally caught up now that this chapter is posted. As in, there's no more chapters written after this. The updates caught up with the story. ._. Yeah, I'm as shocked as you are! Next update coming...whenever I get back to writing. My heart's just not really in it at the moment. Don't forget to review!  
**

By the time Al and Thimble approached camp, it was dark. The two of them discussed tomorrow in quiet voices. "Don't give Wiley the watch tonight," Al murmured, pushing aside leafy fronds and tramping through mud, "He didn't wake us up this morning and he needs the sleep anyways. Just you and I will switch off."

"When exactly should we leave?" Thimble asked.

"Just before the sun rises. When it starts getting light out. From there, we'll…" Al trailed off, his gaze focused on a tall shape that rose up out of the darkness.

Wiley was in front of them, the whites of his eyes standing out clearly in the dark. He looked at his two allies wordlessly and for a moment, Al feared he had heard their conversation. Thimble quickly hid her hatchet behind her back, waiting for someone to speak.

"Hey Wiley!" Al greeted casually, "You're not at the camp. Are you feeling better?"

Wiley didn't respond for a moment, as if he were searching for something. "Where's Spark?" He asked. His face became misty with confusion.

Al could find nothing to say to that. He looked to Thimble for aid. She quickly changed the subject back to what Al had asked. "Why'd you leave camp?"

"Because you left me there all alone!" Wiley burst out, suddenly full of vigor, "You left me alone with the eyes! And they were watching me, always watching me…" He cast a terrified glance about him, but no eyes could be found at the moment.

Al spotted a dark trail running down from one of Wiley's nostrils. "Oh, hey…you're bleeding again." He motioned to his own nose.

Wiley didn't appear to have heard Al. He squinted his eyes in the darkness and returned to staring accusingly at his alliance. He seemed to have recovered his strength, somehow. His bout of nausea was over. Al suggested they try and get some food and water in him. They had a small stash of tubers and water they had gathered. This time, Wiley was able to keep it down. Then he curled up and closed his eyes with a small shiver.

Thimble couldn't help but wonder if they were making a big mistake by leaving him. But before falling asleep, Wiley let loose a string of senseless muttering. She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard him ask for Spark again. She looked to Al and saw her concern reflected there. But also, a sense of resolve.

It was decided. They would leave before the sun rose.

* * *

Buck and Claire had made it safely to Gluttony or as Buck liked to call it "The Magic Forest." There they had abandoned their now-useless raft and spent the night in the trees. The jug of gasoline rested on the ground beneath them. Claire, knowing about Cerberus's presence, was unwilling to sleep on the ground. Buck was pretty cranky and having trouble making himself comfortable. Eventually, he grew tired and stopped complaining about their lack of sleep options.

"Buck…" Claire murmured, gazing up at the starry sky. "I can't sleep. Can you?"

"No." Buck growled, "I've got a branch up my ass."

"Buck!" Claire scolded, angered by his harsh language. "Don't say stuff like that!"

He just grunted. Claire waited for a proper response, but she never got one. So she restarted the conversation.

"You know, I feel like we don't know a great deal about each other. Would you mind if we talked a bit?"

Buck suppressed an angry sigh. "Great plan, Sunshine. And after that we can sing 'Kumbaya' and do trust falls."

"For the record, I like 'Kumbaya!'" Claire said defensively, "It's a nice spiritual song."

Buck just snorted. He tried to get away with cutting the conversation short once more, but Claire seemed bent on keeping him awake.

"Do you believe in heaven, Buck?"

Buck let out a deep sigh. "Hard to believe in heaven when you've been through hell." He said, letting his gaze drift upwards.

Even Claire had nothing smart to say to that. "I suppose you're right," She said quietly, "I'll let you sleep now. Maybe we could talk more tomorrow?"

Buck rolled his eyes, but he didn't have the heart to give Claire a snarky comeback. Her voice was lined with grief whenever she spoke. The thing was, deep conversations like this made Buck feel as if he was going to die tomorrow. He didn't want to think about any of that stuff. So he said in gentler tone, "Sure thing, Cupcake. If we're both still alive."

With that, the two of them quieted down and prepared for sleep.

* * *

Sagitta paced in circles on the tallest island, unable to sleep.

Being here without the others was exciting. She had been able to tour the gravestones without anyone harassing her. She located the names of her fallen comrades and listened to their Jabberjays rattle off quotes. She had even made a new discovery. The gigantic tree had the word 'pride' carved into it. She had never noticed it until now. The letters looked like they had been written there ages ago and faded with time. For some reason, it made her feel confident. She ruled the arena from its highest point.

_I'm going to go back for Zale, _She decided, making her way down the hill. _He might not be expecting a nighttime attack._

Underneath the waxing gibbous moon, she made her way back to the Cornucopia island. But little did she know, Zale was prepared for her. He had spent the day in the pirate ship, fearing an attack from Sagitta, watching for her through the portholes. He was too afraid to leave and search out food and water. Sagitta had the shield and those arrows—she could easily pick him off.

When she arrived on the island, Zale cleared his throat and prepared to scare her off. She headed straight for the gaping hole Xander had lost his life in. As soon as her shadow appeared, Zale declared, "I see you there, Sagitta!" His voice rang out surprisingly strong, despite the fact that he desperately needed water. "One more step and you're dead."

Sagitta hesitated for a moment. Then her shadow melted away as she stepped out of the ship. Zale realized the threat had worked. Sagitta would not come in here when she had no idea where he was, hidden in the darkness. But he could not hold her off for long. And he was beginning to feel the effects of dehydration.

He looked hungrily towards the crooked steps that led deeper into the ship. Holes in the deck cast moonlight onto them, causing them to look inviting. But there could still be wire traps there. It was too dangerous.

Zale tried to hold off as long as possible, keeping on his guard in case Sagitta attacked. But he was deathly tired. Unwillingly, he drifted off into a comfortable sleep where he sat.

He dreamed a girl that resembled his sister came to him and gave him water. Her eyes shone with concern as she pushed the cool cup against his lips. But no matter how much he drank, Zale's thirst was not satisfied. It was as if the water vaporized as soon as it touched his tongue. The cup emptied out and the girl stood up to leave.

"Wait," He tried to tell the girl, but his voice wouldn't work properly. And she was walking away. He reached towards her helplessly, crying out, "Wait, I need more water!" Still, his voice was only a dry whistle. He could feel his mouth filling up with sand, choking him. Tears flooded from his eyes, but even they turned dry on his skin.

_Coral!_

Zale woke up lying on the floor of the ship, his mouth coated with sand. Tears dotted his eyes and he hurriedly wiped them away. The moon had barely moved from its position in the sky—he had not been out long.

But he needed water desperately. A flash of foolhardy determination surged through his veins. Thoughts of Coral drove him to stand up and make his way towards the steps. Who _cared_ if he blew up in the same fashion as Xander? No one cared. Not even him. It would be a painless death. It would be fast. He wouldn't suffer slowly from dehydration or shamefully die by the hand of Sagitta. And he could be together with Coral again.

Fearlessly, Zale took the first step. The sound of his boot hitting wood echoed emptily through the hull of the ship. Yet nothing happened.

He took another step. And another. Then—

_Click._

The sound of his foot setting down on a tripwire. Everything seemed to shift into slow motion. Zale closed his eyes and braced for death. He was ready.

...But it never came. Hardly daring to breathe, Zale opened his eyes and lifted his foot. The dynamite trap never went off. Slowly, he realized that the Gamemakers did not want him to die like this. They controlled most everything in the arena—perhaps they were able to control every little piece of dynamite as well. _They _had prevented him from meeting the same fate as Xander. Gamemakers could save lives as well as destroy them.

Zale didn't quite know what to think of this. He just continued on up the crooked steps and located a door that read, "Captain's Quarters."

Inside, he found everything his heart desired. Heaps of food, dozens of water bottles, and even treasure chests spilling over with gold coins and jewelry. After taking it all in, Zale immediately darted for the water. It was lukewarm, but he didn't care. This tiny room was heaven-sent.

He smirked as he helped himself to a late dinner. There must have been a weeks' worth of nourishment in here. Zale could stay here and wait out the Games if he wanted to.

But waiting around had never been his style. He would replenish his needs and take a well-deserved rest. Then, he would go straight back to business. He desperately wanted to kill Sagitta…and Buck…and anyone else he could get his hands on.

It was time to end this long-winded Hunger Games.

* * *

Through a gap in the trees, Al could see the sky starting to lighten little by little. He sighed and looked to his sleeping allies. Wiley was facing away from him, random spasms causing his legs to twitch. It was a sad sight. It was as if he were no longer in control of his own body. But they couldn't take the risk and stay with him; from here on out, he was on his own.

Quietly, Al reached over and shook Thimble awake. She didn't say a word—just opened her eyes and looked knowingly into his. Al crept over to their tiny food stash and began filling his little pockets. Thimble located her hatchet, hidden in a bush. She had kept it a secret from Wiley last night, in case he asked where they found it.

Finally, the two were ready to go. They paused in the clearing, looking at Wiley's shuddering form. Al felt the need to say something.

"Good luck, man." He said sincerely, his voice barely above a whisper, "Thanks for everything."

Thimble felt her throat tighten. "Yeah." She mumbled, "Bye."

Al looked to his last ally. "Ready?"

"Let's go." Thimble nodded.

The two turned to leave.

"A…and just where do you think..._you're_ going?" Wiley's shaky voice penetrated the air. Both Al and Thimble's hearts fell as they turned back around to look him in the eye. He was sitting up, his glasses askew, his bloodshot eyes wide with confusion.

Al quickly tried to think up an excuse. "You know, just going to look for the canoe again."

"No you're not!" Wiley burst out accusingly, his voice rising, "I heard you! Y-You're leaving me, aren't you?"

Thimble flushed guiltily, but Al kept his cool. "Of course not! You look unwell, Wiley. You should go back to sleep."

"I wasn't sleeping!" Wiley wailed, "I didn't sleep at all last night! And I heard you just now…you're abandoning me in the middle of the jungle!"

Al realized that there was no way around this. Besides, Wiley didn't deserve to be lied to. So after a deep breath, he finally owned up to the truth. "Fine. We found the canoe last night. We're leaving, but you can't come with us."

Thimble nearly smacked her forehead in frustration. _No! Why did you tell him? _She screamed inwardly. Now they would never get away. He would force his company on them whether they wanted it or not.

Wiley suddenly shot to his feet, his body rigid and trembling. He pointed a shaking finger right at Al and Thimble. "It's…it's all becoming clear to me now. Find some _moron _with a canoe to cart you around. Give him some sob story about getting back home to your family. S..._Squeeze _him for information on how to build a plan to defeat the Careers. Then—then when he's no more use to you, just leave him for dead."

"Wiley—" Al opened his mouth to argue, but his former ally cut him off with a hysterical laugh.

"You've been playing me this whole time, haven't you? And now you're _conveniently _running off together…just when I need you the most!" Panic flared in Wiley's eyes as he looked to each of his ally's in turn. Hidden muscles in his face spasmed at random moments.

Al stepped forward. "It's nothing personal, Wiley." He told him as patiently as he could, "But there's something wrong with you. You're sick and it might be contagious. We have to think of our survival too, you know."

Wiley stared at Al for a long moment, his blue eyes getting wider and wider. Realization seemed to dawn on him, as if he had finally seen the light and understood why he had to be left behind. But that wasn't the case at all. Something within him had snapped. A thin trickle of blood seeped out of his nose and dripped down to his upper lip. He didn't even seem to notice. His mind was racing so fast he thought it would explode.

"I'll bet this arena isn't even real, is it?" Wiley burst out, flailing his arms, "Those tributes didn't _die_! It-it-it was all just some cleverly placed lights and special effects!"

Al looked to Thimble, fear sparking in his eyes. "Let's go." He mouthed, beginning to back away. She followed.

"No, no, no!" Wiley said, his voice dropping in volume drastically. He clutched at his head, his expression horrified. "That's not what it is at all. This is all just a psychological experiment! I'm—I'm just a tester, aren't I? Just like Dad wanted! On the day he told me I couldn't run the company—that was the day I was _reaped_! This isn't real! _This isn't real!_" He clawed at his hair, digging his untrimmed nails into his skin until he drew blood. There was a chip in his brain, somewhere, he was sure of it. He had to get it out. He had to get it out at any cost.

He looked wildly towards Al and Thimble who were trying to make a hurried getaway. He began to follow them, a begging whine rising up from in his throat.

"No!" Al snapped ferociously, like he was reprimanding a dog. Wiley flinched back as if he had been struck. "We're leaving."

"No, you can't leave me!" Wiley wailed. He shot forward and grabbed at Al's arm. The shorter boy tried to pull away, but Wiley held on tightly with unexpected strength. A dark glare settled over his features. "You're not leaving me!" He snarled.

"Get off!" Al growled, giving his former ally a rough shove.

Wiley didn't respond, instead reaching for Al's throat. Al pulled back, Wiley's sharp nails barely grazing his skin. This simple action told him how dire the situation had become.

"Get out of here, kid!" Al called to Thimble, who stood back fearfully. "I'll catch up with you later!"

Thimble almost complied, running a few steps away before stopping. She looked back to where Al and Wiley had begun to wrestle. Wiley was taller, but Al was stronger and more compact. Thimble's grip tightened on the handle of her weapon. Wiley could be defeated with a well-aimed swing of the blade. She nearly ran to Al's aid, but the instinct for self-preservation was stronger.

Thimble ran for her life, following the trail they had forged yesterday. Panting heavily, she forced her way through the undergrowth, all while listening for the sound of Al following her. Wiley was weak. They could outrun him, together.

When she came upon the ravine, Thimble knew she was almost there. She leaped across the gap with no hesitation this time and crashed to safety. Then she scrambled to her feet and darted to the canoe. With all of her strength, she rolled the heavy boat over and began pushing it in the direction of the shore. Adrenaline pumping through her system gave her the stamina she needed to do so.

Only when the canoe reached the sand, did Thimble finally stop, breathing heavily. Every part of her body ached. "Al?" She said breathlessly, looking over her shoulder. He was not behind her.

Trying to ignore her pounding heart, Thimble continued to push the canoe towards the water. It was a struggle, but she managed to get there, inch by inch. Finally to safety, she stopped and flopped over in the sand, chest heaving. Tiredly, she scanned the jungle's edge for any approaching tribute. Still, Al was nowhere to be found.

She began to grow scared. _They can't still be fighting. _She thought, _They're friends. And Wiley isn't that strong. Al got away. He definitely got away. And he'll be here any minute._

But then came the sound that she had been dreading.

_Boom._

Thimble's heart nearly stopped. _A cannon. _For some reason, her eyes were growing moist. She squeezed them shut and tried to control her breathing. _No, that can't be one of theirs. It can't be. They're friends, dammit! Oh, please be okay, Al...please be okay..._


	37. Alone

**In case anyone didn't get why I was praising last chapter's title: Corruption. CORRuption. Wiley Corr. And look at this chapter! Alone. AL-lone. Okay, okay, put down the machine guns, I promise next chapter title won't have a pun in it.**

"Get out of here, kid! I'll catch up with you later!" Al shouted at Thimble, straining to keep Wiley's hands from choking him. Thankfully, the young girl's stubborn spirit didn't win out. Al could hear the sound of her escaping into the jungle, her footsteps fading fast.

Wiley's eyes flicked in her direction. It was clear to see he wanted to follow her. With an unexpected heave, Wiley threw his body weight forward and sent Al staggering. He made it one step before Al blocked him again, tackling him in the stomach. Wiley was shaky on his feet and fell backwards with a yelp.

Al tried to regain himself and chase after Thimble, but a hand locked around his ankle, tripping him. Al hit the ground hard, grunting as his elbows took the brunt of the blow.

Wiley clambered to get on top of him, continuing to grab at his throat. Merely leaving him in the dirt and running away was no longer an option. Al let his fist fly. It connected with the corner of Wiley's eye, making a profound crunch as his glasses shattered.

With a deranged howl, Wiley brought down the palm of his hand forcefully, striking Al's mouth. The impact shook his teeth to their roots and he tasted blood. Al tried to work through the pain, using all of his strength to push Wiley off of him. But before Wiley fell back, his hand closed around Al's necklace. His sponsor gift.

Al let out a cry of pain as the chain dug into his neck. Wiley only pulled harder, his lips stretching back to reveal his teeth. "You're…not…_real!_" He snarled as Al fought for breath.

Gasping, he reached forward and attempted to pry the packet of repellant from Wiley's hands. "Don't…do this…Wiley…!" He begged in a thin voice.

For a moment, they were trapped in this position, Wiley pulling with all his strength while Al fought through the pain. Then, the packet burst, scattering its oily contents. A good amount landed on Wiley's face, around his eyes and nose. He threw back his head and screamed as if he had been doused with acid. Al realized that this was the opportune moment to escape—or kill someone he had regarded as a friend up until now.

He hesitated. And that was all Wiley needed.

With renewed ferocity, he let go of the necklace and went directly for Al's throat, digging his nails into the soft jugular. Wiley gasped frantically, tearing and clawing his way through the flesh, as Al struggled to escape. But he held tight, with strength he never knew he had possessed. Skin clumped under his nails and his fingers became slick with blood.

His chains had been broken. He had finally woken up and discovered the true reality of the Hunger Games.

Wiley threw his head back and laughed, a mad man's laugh. He removed his hands from Al's throat, paying no mind to the fact that his friend still lived. But Al no longer struggled. His breathing had become shallow and blood leaked from his ravaged throat.

A weak smile creased his lips. His blue-gray eyes swam with defeat and he closed them, hopeful that no one would take his death too hard. He would have been there to comfort them, if he could. Crack a joke or two so his mom would stop crying. Harass Beetle into putting a shirt on for his funeral. Heh. Of course that wasn't possible. This sort of thing had been inevitable as soon as his name had been called at the Reaping.

He had been resigned to his fate from the very beginning.

A cannon sounded and Wiley's laughter trailed off. He had nearly forgotten: Thimble. She was escaping with _his _canoe. The one he and Spark had found. Not her. That little thief!

Trying not to panic, Wiley went running in the direction he thought she had gone. The jungle became a green blur around him. His glasses were beyond repair, warping his vision. But he kept pushing on until he stumbled out into the open. The sandy beach beneath him nearly sent him tumbling forward, but he grinded to a halt before it could.

For a moment, he stood there, blinking in the light of the rising sun. But then he spotted her. Not far down the shore, Thimble was pushing the canoe out into the waves. Her face turned towards his. Her eyes settled on his blood-soaked hands. Thimble's face screwed up in a mixture of grief, rage, and shock.

"YOU MURDERER!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Wiley shot towards her, stumbling through the sand, his gaze fixed hungrily on the canoe.

But Thimble had already gotten it in the water. Quickly, she climbed in and began paddling with all her might, choking back tears. She didn't dare look back, terrified she would see Wiley directly behind her.

"Oh, no, no, no, please come back! Come back!"

He almost sounded like the old Wiley. Thimble turned and saw him rooted on shore, pacing back and forth. His face was that of a frightened child's, contrasting sharply with the blood on his hands.

Thimble, now at a safe distance, put down her paddle and screamed back, "No! Y…You killed Al! How could you?!" Warm tears broke free and ran down her face.

Wiley was tearing at his hair now, wailing, "Please come back! Please, I'm begging you, please! I can't swim, I can't swim-"

"NO!" Thimble repeated, surprised by the sheer volume of her voice.

Wiley could feel his panic heightening as the canoe drifted farther and farther away. But then that panic was abruptly replaced with a hot flash of rage. "Fine! LEAVE!" He roared, "I don't need you! I despise you! I loathe you! You arrogant, smug, monstrous little girl! I swear I will find you and I will _kill _you, love!"

"NOT IF I KILL YOU FIRST!" Thimble screamed back with all her might.

Wiley opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't produce anymore sound. He lowered his head, glaring at Thimble's retreating form, his throat raw from screaming.

"Fine…" He whispered, "Then let the games begin."

* * *

The sun had already been up for a long time when Claire awoke. Her bones audibly cracked as she tried to lift herself off the thick branch that served as her bed last night. Blearily, she rubbed her eyes and peered towards the ground.

"Damn, I was beginnin' to think you were dead!" Buck called jovially from the ground, "You slept right through that cannon."

"Who died?" Claire asked groggily, attempting to tame her bushy mound of hair.

"Hell if I know." Buck shrugged, biting into a juicy mango. "But the recap of it should keep the Capitol entertained for a while. Now come get breakfast."

Claire blinked hard, finally bringing the world into clearer view. Buck was sitting cross-legged on the ground, a pile of fruit in front of him. Frustration bubbled up inside Claire and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground, scolding him. "How could you! Not only did you run off on your own, leaving me alone in this tree, you ate fruit that could be poisoned! Spit that out right now!"

Buck waved her away, growling, "It ain't! Now if you don't want yer share, I'd be happy to eat it for ya!" He eyed the luscious fruit, his stomach growling on cue. He longed to sink his teeth into another mango.

"Stop it!" Claire demanded, disliking the hungry look in his eyes, "There must be a catch. Gamemakers don't just hand food out like this."

"They _do _if they don't feel like watchin' 23 tributes die of starvation." Buck grumbled stubbornly.

Claire knew she couldn't argue with Buck. He was obstinate, just like her. So she did the next best thing, bringing her foot down on the tiny pile of food, smashing the fruit into the ground. Juice squirted in every direction, staining her boot. But her eyes were fixed on Buck, waiting for his reaction.

His jaw dropped. "The hell's wrong with you? I went outta my way to get you breakfast and _this _is the thanks I get?"

"We're going to get our food the hard way." Claire said sternly. "The _right _way."

Buck's wide brown eyes became hard. "Who says there's gonna be a 'we' after this?" He stepped right up to Claire, so that he was looming over her, as if to intimidate her with his height. He glared at her, shoulders rigid with tension. "Don't think you can boss me around like you did to your little pal from District 8."

She faced up to him bravely, lifting her chin. She was used to everyone towering over her. This wasn't impressive at all. But on the inside, fear was beginning to build. Buck was a ruffian and probably wouldn't think twice about hitting a woman of her stature.

But then Buck cracked a smile. "Aww, lookit you tryna act all tough! C'mon Sweetcheeks, you really think I'd break this alliance over a piece of fruit?"

_No, I thought you were going to freaking kill me! _Claire nearly laughed hysterically. But she composed herself and said in a calm voice, "You need to stop doing that. And please don't mention Flick to me again."

"Sorry. I won't."

Claire blinked back her surprise. _Wow. Did he really just apologize? No snarky remark or stupid nickname?_

But Buck had already gotten his fill of antagonizing her for the morning. His stomach was rumbling incessantly and he was keen on filling it with something he missed terribly: meat.

* * *

Thimble hadn't been able to look when they collected the body. She knew she wouldn't be able to watch the sky that night either. The only thing she could do was lie in the canoe, eyes closed as the sun beat down on her. She had run out of tears to cry. The sharp pain of sadness had turned to a dull ache.

How strange that she was the only one in the canoe. Just a few days ago, it had been packed with her alliance as they struggled to move dynamite from one island to the next. She tried to imagine them filling it once more, but the silence made it impossible. If they were really here, Al and Wiley would have been chattering away while Spark made wise remarks.

_Wiley._

Thimble hadn't felt this amount of hatred for a while. It seared her bones and made her want to break something. Perhaps she had experienced this sort of rage when it came to Lacy Button. But she had never wished death upon her bully. Now, she found herself wishing for Wiley to experience the most painful death the arena had to offer.

With a shaky sigh, Thimble opened her eyes. She sat up and looked around. She hadn't drifted too far from the islands, due to the current. The remnants of Wrath were frighteningly close and the smell of sulfur stung her nose. Heat shimmered over the red-tinged rocks.

The island had a strange aura to it. Thimble hadn't seen the hovercraft collect the bodies left there. Were they buried in the earth, encased by volcanic ash? Would their families get to see them again? Would they _want _to?

She hadn't even looked back. She hadn't even spared a thought for them, until now. And when Al was mourning Spark, she only felt disgustingly envious. And then…she had left Al to die. She could have fought alongside him with her hatchet, but she had selfishly chosen her own life over his. She was done lying to herself that he would have done the same. Al wasn't that kind of person—he had proved he wasn't just another Kalin. He was a good person…and she wasn't.

Thimble's eyes blurred with tears. _I'm a terrible human being, _She thought, sobbing with regret, _I deserve to be in the Hunger Games. I deserve to die._

With those thoughts echoing in her mind, Thimble curled into a miserable heap and closed her eyes once more.

* * *

Needless to say, Buck and Claire's hunting expedition was a failure. Weaponless and with little knowledge on snares, they floundered their way through the forest of Gluttony. Buck began to grow nervous. It was only a matter of time until the Gamemakers deemed them uninteresting…Cerberus would probably come crashing through the undergrowth at any moment.

The snapping of twigs nearly scared him out of his skin. But he relaxed when he realized that whatever made the sound was small. He motioned for Claire to be silent and crept towards it. They crouched behind a wall of bushes and peeked through the leaves at a fat little boar. It was absorbed in snuffling at the ground, looking for food.

"And just how are you going to catch that poor little pig?" Claire whispered. She had already pointed out their lack of weaponry at least ten times so Buck was well aware of this fact.

"I'm gonna sneak up on it and snap its neck. Good ol' District 10 style!" He said bluntly, smirking as Claire cringed.

"You're going to make the Capitol think we're a bunch of barbarians!" She complained, but Buck was already creeping to a better vantage point.

The air was hot and heavy. There was no wind to give away his position. He went as close to the boar as he dared, tensing every muscle to spring on it. Claire remained where she was, feeling her eyes tear up. Poor baby pig. It had only just come into this world. It didn't deserve to be killed.

Claire shook her head angrily to clear these thoughts. _Idiot! Neither did any of the kids here, _She scolded herself. Buck was moving in for the kill, so she kept quiet and turned her face away.

Suddenly, a sharp squeal pierced the air. Claire squeezed her eyes shut and waited for it to be over. But the squealing broke off into angry snorting. She opened her eyes to see a larger boar, perhaps the parent, come crashing through the bushes opposite of her. The child shrieked, practically tripping over its hooves in its hurry to leave. But the angry boar's fury was directed at Buck.

He cursed as it charged right towards him. Instinctively, he threw out his arms for protection, catching the gigantic pig's tusks. But the beast was stronger and forced him to the ground, attempting to trample him with its hooves.

"Buck!" Claire screamed, but there was little she could do for him. The gasoline was back at camp, but…the matches! She pulled out the matches, preparing to light one. But they shook in her hand. She was terrified of lighting one. Images of tributes dying by fire danced in her head.

_I'm sorry, Buck. I can't do it. I can't do it._

Buck struggled underneath the monstrous boar, still trying to force its tusks away from him. The pig screamed, attempting to gore him over and over. A hoof was planted firmly on his chest, squeezing the air out of his body.

He would have laughed, if he had the strength. He had spent his life gutting pigs. How ironic that a piece of meat was about to slice him open. He almost felt sorry for himself, but there was a strange new feeling there as well. He wanted Claire to go on and win for him. She was a good person—a better person than he'd ever be. She deserved it more than anyone.

Buck let out a gasp, attempting to convey this final wish to her. But he barely had the strength to shout. _Claire, git the heck outta here! Win and go home! _He thought, willing this message to somehow reach her mind.

But then, with a primal scream, Claire was at his side.

_Dammit Claire! _But then Buck got a better look.

Claire had set ablaze a thin branch and was wielding it like a sword. Ferocity danced in her eyes, making the tiny girl look threatening for once in her life. She sprang forward, swinging the torch at the boar. It connected with the beast's snout, scattering embers. With a squeal, Buck's attacker turned tail and ran. Buck just lay there, stunned at the events that had unfolded. He sat up, looking dazed. His chest felt tight and his muscles throbbed. But he was whole. The boar had been unable to penetrate him with its sharp tusks.

"How do you put this out?!" Claire's shrill voice brought him back to reality.

She was dancing from foot to foot, looking panicked. The fire was steadily eating its way down the stick, towards her hands.

Buck got up, laughing, "Give it here. Yer gonna set the whole forest ablaze, missy." He tossed it on the ground and stomped it out easily. As he did so, he became aware that his lower torso was wet. Buck paused, touching the damp spot, and then bringing it nose for a sniff.

"…What's wrong?" Claire asked, wide-eyed.

"Awww, son of a…!" Buck nearly let loose a string of curses, but he composed himself for Claire's sake. He gritted his teeth and growled, "Peed on my suit. Not enough that he tried to kill me—had to go and pee on me too." He turned and stomped off.

Claire was trying hard not to laugh. She covered up her chuckles with a cough and asked, "Where are you going?"

"To get revenge. This just got personal."

"Buck!" Claire said, running to his side.

He rolled his eyes. He knew what was coming, just from her tone. Time for a lengthy lecture.

"Buck, don't be stupid. We barely managed to scare that thing off and now you want to chase after it? Maybe you forgot we have nothing to defend ourselves with. Well, here's your reminder: we don't. So please explain to me how your mind works and why, exactly, you're suddenly so keen on letting a monster-pig kill you because I would _really _love to know."

Buck gave a frustrated sigh. "Well, I'm a complex guy, sweetheart."

"No. No, you're just being stubborn." Claire countered, lifting her chin, "And we are going back to camp right now, mister, and eating poisoned mangos the rest of the day if you can't let go of this silly grudge! Animals pee, in fact, we _all _do. The boar wasn't making a personal attack on you, it was just going through a bodily function."

"Yeah, it wasn't attackin' me at all!" Buck snapped sarcastically, "Just like I wasn't on the ground, tryin' ta keep it from stabbin' me!"

"I wasn't talking about that part, I was talking about the fact that it peed on you!"

"Can we please stop havin' this conversation?" Buck flushed. He was probably the laughingstock of Panem right now. Shouting some dramatic last words to Claire, telling her to win for him, would have been much more noble. Yeah, it'd been done, but it was still a darn cool exit! But with the way she was acting now, he was having second thoughts. He felt protective over her in dire situations, but in normal conversation, he prayed she would find a cliff to walk off of.

Claire, equally stubborn as him, continued to lecture him. But Buck just walked on ahead, tuning her out as he followed the trail the boar had made. For some reason, dread washed over him. Claire was being awfully loud. And they were never out of danger. The Gamemakers might not be through with them.

"Shut up!" Buck snapped, listening to their surroundings.

Claire gave him a withering look. "Oh, real mature—"

Buck refrained from smacking a hand over her mouth and hissed, "Listen! I hear somethin'."

Claire's eyes widened with horror. She froze where she was, and she heard it. A faint squealing that was quickly growing louder. Both tributes braced themselves as the boar from earlier came streaking through the trees. But it did not spare them a second glance. On its heels was Cerberus, both heads snapping their oversized jaws. The main head snagged the boar just as it gave a mighty leap. A loud _crack _penetrated the air, signaling that the boar's spine had been broken. It fell limp in the giant hound's teeth.

Buck and Claire were stiff with horror. Cerberus's two broad heads swiveled around on their long necks to focus on them. Two pairs of eyes shone excitedly at the prospect of another hunt. The gigantic boar went crashing to the ground.

"Run!" Buck roared, pushing Claire into action.

They turned and sprinted back the way they came, with nowhere else to go. Buck's mind raced. They had no boat to escape on. They had no weapons to fight with, not that it would have been an even match. Except…

"Back to camp!" Buck gasped, continuing to shove Claire ahead of him, keeping himself between her and Cerberus. Buck was a fast sprinter, but with little stamina, his strength was failing him. Cerberus was going to catch up at this rate.

An excited yip came from his left. Pounding paws shook the ground like a miniature earthquake. A pair of jaws snapped from somewhere behind him. Buck could feel the muttation's hot breath on the back of his neck. Any moment he expected it to be over, waiting for the feel of teeth sinking into his skin. But it didn't come.

Suddenly, they were back at camp. Claire threw herself at their large tree and scrambled up the trunk. But not before pausing to offer a hand to Buck.

"Just go!" He growled, "I'm right behind you!"

Quickly, he climbed up behind her. But then he realized what he had come back for in the first place—the gasoline. It was still at the base of the tree. He turned back around to climb down and retrieve it, but Cerberus was already there.

Claire screamed as the dog gave a mighty leap. But Buck brought his knees up to his chest just in time and the beast's teeth barely grazed his toes. Panting, Buck scaled to a higher branch, near Claire's. They sat there and caught their breath, waiting for their heart rates to slow down. Both tributes were safely out of reach.

Cerberus gave a frustrated growl, pacing around the trunk of the tree. It scraped at the trunk, and even tackled it, but the bark was thick. It would not bend under his weight. After numerous failed attempts, Cerberus just stopped and stared at them, fury blazing in all four of his eyes.

"Now what?" Claire whispered nervously, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

As if in response, Cerberus settled down on the ground and rested its center head on its paws. Yet, it continued to glare up at the tributes, waiting for them to come down. Clearly, it was not about to leave anytime soon.

District 10 had been treed like a couple of cats.

* * *

Where the heck was Zale?

Sagitta couldn't believe he had vanished so easily. Daringly, she had entered the ship and found the hull to be empty. She could have screamed from frustration. She had been so patient as to wait him out, but he was gone anyways. Perhaps he had escaped the ship when she wasn't looking, much like Al had on the first day.

So she busied herself with getting food and water, and then returned to her vantage point on the island with the tree. Night was falling. Speaking of Al, he had been the one to die that morning. Cunning little creep. She wished she could see how it happened, but she would have to wait until the full recap with Caesar Flickerman.

Just as the last of the sun's rays melted away, something caught Sagitta's eye. A tribute was out in the open, pacing along the shores of the jungle island. She squinted her eyes, trying to make out who it was. It definitely wasn't Zale. His shock of blonde hair would have stood out like a sore thumb.

She surmised from the height that it was the District 3 tribute. She couldn't place his name, but...how the heck was he even still alive? She had counted him as Bloodbath fodder from the very beginning.

Oh well. She had time to make an easy kill. Then it would be back to hunting Zale.

* * *

It was nighttime, yet Cerberus had still not left. Each of the heads traded off keeping watch, much like the tributes did. One dozed while the other stared at them hungrily. Through careful observation, Buck began to realize each head had a separate personality. The pointy-eared dog was vicious and hell-bent on destroying them. The floppy-eared one was its simpering beta, but Buck was also heavily reminded of one of the dogs that used to hang around the slaughterhouse.

The dog was big and friendly with short hair as black as night and floppy ears. It was different from the other mutts that fought for scraps. This one came right up to people, wagging its tail, his eyes bright with hope. Most likely, someone had owned him previously, but hadn't the money to keep him. Buck sometimes let the hungry animal lick the blood off his fingers after a hard day's work. Then he didn't have to bother with washing up and could go straight into his second job—conning Peacekeepers.

But the darn thing was too friendly for its own good. It crossed a mean shepherd one day, probably just looking to make friends, and had its guts spread across an alley. That's where kindness got you in the Tenderloin.

"Buck…" Claire squeaked fearfully, still perched on the same branch as earlier, "Are you up for having that conversation we postponed from the other night…?"

The floppy-eared head of Cerberus raised its eyes hopefully. They sparkled with the same joy that the slaughterhouse dog's did. _Oh please come down and play with me, _They said, _Oh please let me tear you limb from limb. It will be so fun, I promise!_

Buck tore his gaze away from it to peer up at his district partner. He sighed and stretched, listening to the crack of his bones. "Sure." He yawned. Strangely, he didn't mind so much now. Maybe it was because thoughts of home were already running through his mind. Or maybe Cerberus's presence made him more willing to talk about the past.

He let Claire take it away. She chattered on about her family while Buck listened. She told him everything—how she had lost her mother at a young age and taken her place. How she was constantly reprimanding her sister, Demi, and trying to build some confidence in her little brother, Noah.

_No wonder she acts so motherly, _Buck sighed inwardly. But from the way she spoke, he could tell that she loved her family very much. He almost felt envious of it.

"So what about you?" Claire asked, leaning against the trunk of the tree. One foot dangled off the sturdy branch she was on. She didn't seem to notice Cerberus eyeing it wistfully.

Buck growled, "I reckon I don't have no heartwarmin' story for you. My parents're dead, my grandma's a loon, and my older brother…" He trailed off. He knew Ram must have resented him somewhat, for always having to look out for him. But at the same time, they were brothers and they cared about one another. Despite all that animosity…nothing could break that bond. "My older brother has always had my back." He finished, smiling fondly, "He's my partner in crime."

Claire felt emotion swell in her chest. Buck's smile just now was so genuine, yet he had been through so much. She really admired him for it. "If you don't mind me asking…how did your parents die?" Her voice was wrought with sympathy.

Buck didn't feel offended. Most people were curious over the matter. But that was one thing he didn't want to relive. He remembered screaming and crying as his brother held him, demanding to know what happened. But the Peacekeepers just didn't care. As far as they were concerned, his parents weren't any more important than that poor dog, torn to pieces in the alley…

"It don't matter no more." Buck whispered, surprised to hear his voice shake slightly. "We should get to bed."

"Buck," Claire said softly, "Wherever they are, I'm sure they're proud of you."

Buck blinked hard. Something had gotten in his eye. Or maybe these were tears. Either way, he squeezed them shut, thinking, _Dammit, Claire. Don't make me care about you any more than I already do._

"Be careful not to tumble off the branches tonight," Claire went on, "Cerberus is still down there. Hopefully…he'll go away soon." She bit her lip nervously, unable to believe her own words.

"Yeah. Night, Claire." Buck said, turning onto his side.

Claire smiled to herself. _You called me Claire. _She nearly pointed it out, but she knew it would probably get on Buck's nerves and lead him to call her a few more ridiculous nicknames. Instead, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

**RIP Al. Can you believe he was initially pegged as a Bloodbath when he was first created? He was another character I loved; with his poor attempts at flirting and his corny jokes shielding his quiet acceptance that he was already dead. He even fooled many of you guys with his idiot act, as displayed by your doubtful reviews in the beginning. But Al was a really great character and he brought out the best in everyone he met, making for some great interactions with Ian, Jade, Buck, Thimble, Spark…you get it. I suppose I should stop gushing, but it's hard not to go on about my favorites, as you've probably noticed by now. Oh well…he's in that big block party in the sky now.**


	38. Dream of an Absolution

**/cries/ August is my busy month of packing and Band Camp. I'll try and keep the updates coming, though it's difficult. I'm ready for this story to be over.  
**

Tonight seemed like it would be relatively uneventful.

Cerberus was holding Buck and Claire captive, but they weren't coming down anytime soon. Wiley was whittling away the time on Envy while Thimble sulked on Sloth. Zale, of course, remained in his little fortress of solitude. Sagitta had seemed like she was going out to hunt, but she wound up staying on Pride and resting instead. Perhaps she was planning a nighttime attack? Only time would tell.

At least now was the perfect time to get away. The Head Gamemaker had been handed a note by an Avox. The President wanted to speak with her in his garden. It was odd that he wanted to hold a conference at night, but she didn't dare question it. It was a good time to meet anyways. Her subordinates would keep an eye on things. They had plenty of Gamemakers constantly switching in and out. The most vital of workers rarely slept, injecting themselves with a sort of 'medicine' that kept them going for hours at a time. Coffee was also a fine necessity.

The Assistant Gamemaker was currently hopped up on drugs, alert and prepared for anything. She granted him a swift goodbye and headed out. The mansion was not far from the Gamemakers' HQ, but the Head Gamemaker had worn heels and didn't feel like walking. She had an Avox order a limo for her. Then she went down on the street where the commoners were, and waited.

_Oh shoot! _She thought, nearly slapping her forehead, _I forgot to give the Gamemakers the okay to kill Wiley._

She had been toying with the idea of killing him for a while. It was mostly a matter of how to do it than anything else. She was leaning towards the army ants. He would be too discombobulated to escape them. Before she had come to a decision on that, she had been distracted by a number of things.

The Head Gamemaker pulled out her phone, poising her finger to message her assistant. Laziness stopped her in her tracks. _Eh…I'll just let them know when I get back. _She decided with a wicked smile. She wanted to be in the HQ for every single death that occurred.

And Wiley's death was imminent. They couldn't have a victor like him. Sure, it would be entertaining. He'd probably try to strangle Caesar at his crowning ceremony right before falling off the stage and cracking his skull open. That would be funny for about a second. Then they would have a major crisis on their hands. Snow would probably have her executed for it.

She shivered. Thinking about it now, most of the tributes weren't suitable to become victors. She could sense a rebellious streak in Thimble. Claire was too self-righteous and Buck had been a major letdown. When he entered the game, she was expecting him to rack up a few kills, but so far he had made _zero_. What a disappointment.

Zale or Sagitta deserved the win more than anyone. The Head Gamemaker was leaning towards Sagitta. Zale's awkward breakdown hadn't earned him any points with her. What reason did he have to be sad? He was still alive, wasn't he? There was something off about him. Like he wasn't quite cut out to be a Career and he was beginning to realize it.

_Don't be ridiculous. He's made some kills. He'd be a fine victor, _She decided with a nod, _But Sagitta is the top choice. I need to let the other Gamemakers know this when I return. Ugh. Where on earth is that limo?_

"It's you! It's really you! Oh, we're such big fans of your arenas!"

The Head Gamemaker looked up to see a woman with two young children approaching her. Passerby on the street had been casting awed glances her way for the past few minutes. It was only a matter of time until someone stopped to chat.

"Can we get a picture with you?" The little boy asked, eyes shining with excitement. The roots of his hair were dark, but the rest of it had been sloppily dyed blonde. Probably in honor of Zale.

The Head Gamemaker grinned. She loved her fans, and little ones were always a joy to be around. "Of course you can!"

Both kids got on either side of her and she kneeled down, wrapping her arms around their shoulders. Their mother was wriggling with joy as she repeatedly snapped photos of them together.

The little girl, who had been shy at first, began hitting the Gamemaker with an assortment of questions. She spoke with an endearing lisp, her eyes wide and wondering. "Why awe youw eyes diffwent colahs? Why awe you wearing dose wingies? Why…?"

"Oh!" Her mother squealed, interrupting her, "Don't tell me you're planning to have surgery? I was just reading about those new wing implants in a magazine the other day!"

"That's right." The Head Gamemaker said, giving the fake wings a little shake, "I'm planning on getting bat wings after the Games are over. But the dove wings and crow wings look good too. For now, I'm just getting used to the feel. Doctors recommend wearing a fake pair for a while to see if you're ready to make the final step before implantation."

The mother was even more excited than her kids at this point. Every word the Gamemaker said enthralled her. "I heard a rumor that you add to your appearance after every Games…?" She wondered, pressing a hand to her lips as if it was some big secret.

The Head Gamemaker smiled and nodded. She was wearing a red dress with a low swoop in the back, so it was easy to point out her tattoo back there. It was an image of a Spider-Man. Its bluish-purple tentacles were grasping her shoulder, as if it were crawling over her skin.

The little boy looked at it in awe, while the little girl hid her face.

"She still has nightmares over that one boy." The mother explained, stroking her daughter's hair, "What was his name?"

"Mitch." The Head Gamemaker answered instantly. She could remember the names of all tributes that came through her arenas. No one could understand how special they were to her.

She showed them her contacts next. One red and one blue, each representing a different side of the arena in the 43rd. She was proud of her artificial heterochromia.

After this, the little ones began showing her the Hunger Games merchandise they had on them. The Head Gamemaker smiled all the way through, but still wondered what was keeping her limo. She had to be one of the most important people in Panem. Why would they keep her waiting like this?!

"Demon woman!"

Both children stopped talking at once, goggling past the Head Gamemaker. She blinked and looked over her shoulder to see an old woman standing there, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Spawn of Satan!" She croaked, all of her fury directed at the Gamemaker.

"Hey! Just who do you think you're talking to?" The Head Gamemaker said, arching an eyebrow. She looked to her fans for support, but the mother was hurriedly rushing her children away, looking pretty freaked out. _Gee, thanks for all your support. _She thought dryly.

"I know exactly who I'm talking to." The old woman growled. She spat at the Gamemaker's feet.

The young woman recoiled in horror. This commoner had nearly gotten saliva on her expensive shoes! How dare she!

In the next instant, the old woman was right up in her face, saying, "How dare you force your judgment on Panem! How dare you remind those poor people of what they lost!"

"What are you talking about?" The Head Gamemaker stuttered, backing away. She was seriously regretting not grabbing a bodyguard before leaving the premise.

"Don't play dumb! You think you're being cute, having all of that religious symbolism in the arena? You arranged those gravestones in a way that suggests those poor tributes went to specific circles of hell! And as if that's not enough, you brought back their voices too." The old woman was choking on her words, tears forming in her eyes.

_She's insane. An absolute loon. _The Head Gamemaker thought, forcing a nervous laugh. "I have no idea what you're talking about!" She lied.

A dark glare cast over the old woman's features, drying any sign of tears. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. And you will burn for your sins! You will face the same judgment you forced onto these poor souls."

The limo finally pulled up as the old woman finished her speech. What timing. The Head Gamemaker opened her mouth to get the last word, but the crone was already hobbling away. Hopefully headed to the nearest insane asylum. The Head Gamemaker couldn't believe Capitolites like that existed. If they loved the districts so much, they should just go live there with the other savages.

But she wouldn't deny the old woman's words had hurt her pride. The Head Gamemaker sulked during the short ride over to Snow's mansion, despising what had gone down. It completely ruined her night! Perhaps Snow could restore her confidence, though she seriously doubted it. He wasn't one to hand out praise recklessly. The limo drove her inside the walls of the mansion and dropped her off out front. She circled around back, heading towards the garden.

It was strangely dark. The string of lights that hung over the garden had not been turned on. Tall hedgerows loomed ominously before her. Flowers appeared as colorless shapes. Only Snow's healthy, white roses stood out in the gloom.

Something told the Head Gamemaker to go back. Hairs rose on the back of her neck. A bad feeling caused her stomach to clench. But she couldn't keep the President waiting. She stepped into the garden.

Only a soft _ping _could be heard as the bullet found its target. The young woman crumpled, dead before she even hit the ground. A spot of blood shone in the darkness, nestled in her hair. Her eyes were open and glazed with death. Judgment had descended sooner than she ever could have imagined.

Her assassin, dressed as a simple Avox, walked away without a backwards glance.

Hours later, the Capitol was in an uproar. But not because of the Head Gamemaker's untimely death. Her death would go unnoticed by the masses. The government would keep it under wraps from the public. Gamemakers came and went all the time. No one would miss her.

No, the Capitol was more concerned with the events unfolding in the Hunger Games at the moment. Only a handful stayed up into the late hours of the night to watch it. It had to be nearly 4 AM when the disturbance happened. The night owls woke up their families and shouted out their windows for everyone to turn their TV on.

The unthinkable had happened.

**RIP Head Gamemaker. How many of you realized the Head Gamemaker was a sort-of self-insert, older, more sadistic version of myself (besides those of you I told of course)? Because let's face it…I'm totally in that position regarding the story. I guess that means you all are the Capitol folks, sponsoring the tributes and eager to see some bloodshed! Heheh. And yes, I totally just killed myself off. So I can't write another of these. What a shame.**

**With that, we're approaching our climax! The next chapter is crazy long. Better prepare yourselves for it. **


	39. Convergence

**I'm going to a nerd convention this weekend! ^o^ I won't have access to a computer so I thought I'd update before I leave because I like coming home to see feedback in my inbox.  
**

**If you haven't already, I REALLY hope you'll review this chapter. It's the longest one yet (8,000 words). A lot happens and if you can't find anything to say about at least one thing then I have failed you as a writer. ;_;  
**

Sagitta wished she had the luxury of checking what time it was. But even without a watch, she knew she was up at an ungodly hour. All of the other tributes were most likely sleeping. They wouldn't wake for a while longer.

She had headed to the jungle island under the cover of nightfall. She hadn't spotted the District 3 tribute for a few hours, but she was certain he hadn't left the island. The jungle was dark and ominous, teeming with poisonous creatures, but he was alive in here, somewhere.

Sagitta entered fearlessly. Her eyes adjusted in no time at all. She hurried along, stepping cautiously over vines that threatened to tangle her feet. She kept her eyes and ears peeled for any sign of life. This had to be over with, quickly. There was still Zale to deal with. Her biggest hurdle of all.

A shrill hiss suddenly reached her ears. In one swift movement, Sagitta whipped around and strung an arrow. A pair of eyes glinted before her. They belonged to a large snake that glowed luminescent green under what little moonlight there was. A forked tongue flicked hungrily towards Sagitta, as if it could already taste her. She could see a spot of luminous pink venom shining inside its mouth. Then it lunged.

She released her arrow a second too late and it sailed off into darkness. The snake shot towards her ankles. She tried to leap back, but her foot got caught. She fell onto her back painfully. Fangs pricked her skin. She gave a choked scream and lashed out with a foot.

The muttation began to wind its way up to her chest. But its grip was still loose and Sagitta was able to wriggle her way out of it. Then she was up and sprinting, working through the pain in her ankle. The snake pursued silently, barely rustling the leaves as it followed. Sagitta reached back for another arrow. Her fingers only brushed one. The other two had tumbled out of the quiver due to her fall. They were lost in the darkness.

With a growl, Sagitta whipped around, stringing the last arrow anyways. In the same moment, the snake reared up. The position was perfect. The arrow pierced its soft neck, pinning it to a nearby tree. The monstrous reptile writhed for a moment, hissing and spitting. But its fight for life grew weak. Finally, it grew still.

Sagitta was deeply shaken. Carefully, she lifted up her pant leg to look at the two tiny holes in her flesh. They felt like they were on fire, but she was still breathing. She was alive. The venom did not lead to instant death. She shakily stepped forward to retrieve the arrow, but it was buried surprisingly deep into the tree. She wrestled with it for a moment, trying to work it out. She nearly had it, when the sound of footsteps reached her ears.

Her first instinct was to scale the tree before her. She went right past the snake and scrambled onto a branch. Her ankle screamed in protest and her chest tightened, but she paid these hindrances no mind. There, she perched, listening hard. Something was coming. As it drew closer, she realized it was the District 3 tribute, muttering to himself and making all the noise in the world. It's like he was _asking_ to be killed, wandering in the dark like this.

As he came into view, Sagitta impulsively reached for an arrow. She nearly let a curse slip out when she realized she was fresh out. Her last arrow was currently pinning a dead snake to the tree she was hiding in. And Wiley was walking closer and closer to it, mumbling deliriously…

"…Sorry I had to do it mate, really sorry, I am. No, no, what'm I saying, you're not real, you're not really dead, it's all in my head. None of this exists, none of it, it's all _his _fault. Put a chip in my brain, he did, I can feel it in there moving around…"

Wiley reached up and scratched at his head with both hands. A sob escaped his lips.

"How could you let him do this to me, Mum…?"

_Poor sap, _Sagitta thought, without remorse. He had clearly lost his tenuous hold on sanity. Putting him out of his misery would be doing him a favor.

She realized Wiley had suddenly gone silent. He was standing under the tree, looking at the snake, blinking hard. He was so close that she could see what insanity had done to him. Spiky clumps of hair mixed with blood stood out on his head. His temples were streaked with light red gashes and scabs as if he had been running his nails over his skin. They were barely visible through the layer of grime that had formed there.

Worst of all were his hands. They were sticky with blood and dirt. It was too excessive to be his own blood. Sagitta suddenly had a bad feeling about this tribute. Attacking him head-on was not a wise idea, especially after taking a bite from the snake. She was feeling light-headed and her ankle still throbbed. So she kept quiet and waited for him to leave.

Something brushed her arm. She nearly screamed at the sight of a scorpion on her sleeve. She shook it off in one quick movement. It dropped to the ground, right at Wiley's feet.

He looked up.

Sagitta's breath caught in her throat as their eyes locked. She tensed her body for a fight, which would hopefully be one-sided. But Wiley just squinted hard, continuing to blink feverishly. Silence passed between them. She wondered why he didn't cry out or run away. Both of his lenses were cracked—perhaps he couldn't see her. _Wait…the jacket! _With its help, she was pretty much invisible to this partially blind tribute.

The next thing she knew, Wiley was ambling away. The way he walked reminded her of the inebriated men her mother brought home. As soon as he had disappeared among the foliage, Sagitta quietly slithered down from her perch. She offered up a silent thank-you to her sponsor as she recovered her last arrow.

Sagitta strung her bow and hurried after Wiley, moving quickly and quietly. He must have picked up the pace, because she didn't find him right away. She kept moving through the jungle, looking all around her for any sign of him. Each step became a little bit harder to take and pretty soon, she was limping. Her lungs couldn't seem to get enough air, causing her breath to come out in short gasps. She pushed away the fear she felt and kept going.

Then she stumbled out onto the beach.

"Huh?" _Shoot. Lost him. _She thought angrily, glaring at the ocean before her, _I could have sworn he went this way._

But he had mysteriously vanished. Sagitta turned to head back into the greenery. Before she even took a step, a heavy weight came crashing into her from behind. She pitched forward, gasping as her face buried into the sand beneath her. A familiar accent tickled her ear as hands wrapped around her throat.

"Didn't think I saw you, did you? Didn't think old Wiley was clever enough, eh?"

Summoning all her strength, Sagitta pushed upwards. Spots clouded her vision, but she refused to be hindered by her wound. With a surprised yowl, Wiley tumbled off. What a fool he was, thinking he could attack her. He was thin and weak. She was a formally trained Career.

But Wiley had lost all sense of reasoning. He attacked Sagitta fearlessly, armed with nothing but his fists. Sagitta tried to pull away and aim her last arrow, but he caught her upper arm. His nails dug into the skin around her triceps, pinching it forcefully. The flood of pain was a shock and she cried out.

Wiley squeezed until he drew blood. Sagitta fought back, but she could feel the muscle strands tearing. Blood flecked across her skin. Rage pumped adrenaline through her veins. She lashed out with a long leg, kicking his hand away. Wiley whimpered and backed off. But the next second, he was rushing back for more, screaming something about how he would leave this virtual world at any cost.

Sagitta leaped back and took aim. Her final arrow. She aimed for the heart and released it. It pierced Wiley's wetsuit and dug right into flesh.

But it was a few inches off target. She had missed at point blank range. Shock nearly froze her in her tracks.

Wiley didn't even flinch as the arrow lodged itself into his bicep. It was as if he was immune to pain. Sagitta ducked as he threw himself at her once more. Now was the time to decide: fight or flight. But her ankle was sending ripples of pain up her leg…and she had already run off like a coward once. That would not happen again. So she slipped a hand into her boot to snatch the hidden knife with her free hand, prepared to fight to the death. In the same instant, Wiley grabbed her bow and wrenched it away from her.

Before she could even lift the knife, Wiley had already smashed the bow into the side of her head. She staggered. He struck again and again, each hit worse than the last. Sagitta took a wild stab and missed. Warm blood flew off the bow and ran down the side of her face.

Shame welled up from within. Was this really happening? She couldn't wrap her mind around it. How was this even possible? She was a _Career. _And he was nothing!

The next thing she knew, she was on the ground. Wiley's dirty fingers grabbed at her chin, prying her mouth open. She fought for all she was worth, biting and clawing, but it did her no good. It was as if she was suddenly caught in a dream. All of her movements felt sluggish. If only that snake hadn't bitten her. If only she hadn't been so foolish as to run to her own death.

Her eyes rolled up to see her bloodstained bow raised high above her head. A maniacal light gleamed in Wiley's eyes, which reflected the moon. Her mind grasped what he was doing at the last second.

He brought the bow down, jamming the point of it into her mouth and piercing the back of her throat. Her eyes watered uncontrollably. She thought she could feel her jaw unhinge. Something snapped, but her cry of pain died in her throat.

Wiley was laughing. His grin was unnaturally large. His pupils were dilated and glazed over as if he weren't really seeing what was in front of him. But he continued to push the bow deeper into her throat. She gagged and fought for breath. Blood welled up and bubbled at her lips, but she received no mercy.

Regret shook Sagitta to the core. All of her hopes seemed to dissipate in that moment. She looked past Wiley. The sky was blurred by her tears, but she could still see the stars. The same stars she watched in District 2. A beautiful spread of twinkling lights over a deep blue blanket. The very sight of them seemed to numb her pain. How grateful she was to see them one last time…

Wiley didn't stop even after the cannon had sounded. He didn't process the sound for a few long minutes, continuing to choke Sagitta. Only when she had been still for a while did he cease his attack.

He dropped the bow and drew back, shaking uncontrollably. He clutched at his arms, eyes wide and unseeing. _I killed a Career. I killed a Career. _His mind repeated over and over like a broken record.

He expected to feel some sort of fear. Maybe even a sense of exuberance over his newfound power…but no.

He felt nothing.

* * *

Dawn of the seventh day.

A week ago, all twenty-four tributes were still living and breathing. Now there were only six left.

_Five, _Claire corrected herself. She had nearly forgotten the cannon that sounded a few hours ago. A chill crept up her spine when she realized how devoid of life the arena had become. But a ray of hope sparked in her heart as well. She was in the final five. So was her district partner, who was stirring on the branch below hers. Maybe District 10 actually had a chance this year.

And then she remembered their current predicament: Cerberus was below, waiting to tear them to pieces. If they didn't come down, they would most likely die of dehydration, unless the Gamemakers decided to add lightning or some other danger to the mix.

"Mornin'." Buck grunted, grimacing at the ache in his joints. He slowly sat up, brushing greasy bangs out of his face. His throat was parched. His stomach had given up the fight and no longer begged for food, but that didn't make him feel any better.

"Good morning." Claire answered quietly. "I guess we're stuck here for the day."

"Great," Buck hissed sarcastically.

Claire had a new respect for Buck after talking to him last night. He acted tough, but he was as vulnerable as the rest of them. She didn't mind his company so much now, even if he spoke in a rude tone of voice.

In the dim morning light, Buck squinted down to where Cerberus rested. The dog's front legs were crossed in a display of dominance. Both heads rested on the ground, eyes closed. Cerberus's shoulders rose and fell with each slow breath. He appeared to be sleeping.

Buck began to pick his way down the tree, moving carefully. Claire nearly called out to him and asked what he was doing. But she saw Cerberus and connected the dots immediately. With both heads asleep, this was their only chance to make a clean break. She prepared to climb down after her partner.

As soon as Buck's feet hit the ground, he began to tiptoe towards the forgotten jug of gasoline. It was a mere few feet from Cerberus's nose. His nostrils began to flare and a small growl rose up in the center head's throat. Buck forged ahead bravely, stepping closer and closer to the beast. Every muscle in his body was coiled tightly, ready to carry him to safety should Cerberus awaken.

Claire realized that she had forgotten how to breathe. Her palms were slick with sweat. Buck was right in front of Cerberus, looking death in the face. _No! Don't do it, Buck! Just run!_

His hand closed around the handle of the jug. Just as he got a firm grip on it, Cerberus woke.

Buck froze where he was, keeping completely still.

Only the floppy-eared head had awoken. It blinked its droopy eyes and looked almost mournfully at Buck. Then it tipped its head, as if asking what he was doing.

Buck let out a shaky breath, trying to remember the way dogs liked to be talked to. "Hey there buddy!" He said in the friendliest voice he could muster, giving Cerberus a nervous grin, "Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?"

Cerberus's thick tail began to thump against the ground. The floppy-eared head began wriggling on its long neck, carelessly bumping into the other one. The one that only wished to devour every tribute in its path.

Buck could see the vicious head's lips curling. But he was already backing away steadily. The floppy-eared head let out an excited whine, eager to play. As soon as Buck's arm bumped the tree, he whipped around and scaled it, clutching the jug tightly.

Cerberus fully awoke with a snarl. The main head lunged, snapping its teeth, but Buck was already out of reach. Cerberus placed both paws on the trunk, standing at its full height. It bared its teeth, exposing a mouth dripping with saliva. He could smell the beast's rancid breath all too well.

Buck opened the container of gasoline with ease. He proceeded to empty its contents onto Cerberus, beneath him. The dog let out a vicious snarl as the smelly fluid splattered its fur. It took its paws off the tree and sunk back onto all fours. Then it shook furiously, scattering droplets.

Even from her height, Claire could feel some hit her bare skin.

"Gimme yer matches." Buck panted, holding out his hand.

Claire obeyed, reaching down to give them to him. "What are you doing?" She whispered fearfully as Buck lit a match.

Fire burned in his eyes. "Same thing I've always done, Claire. Survivin'."

The match fell from Buck's hand.

Cerberus immediately lit up as the fire made contact with his fur. He reared up, flailing his paws, then crashed onto his back, writhing. Both heads were howling in agony, waves of pain rippling down their necks. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the air as the flames ate away his skin. His frantic movements set the grass ablaze, as well as the trunk of the tree District 10 was in. The fire seemed to be catching fast, too fast. It could only be a Gamemaker's doing.

"C'mon!" Buck shouted to Claire. He took a flying leap out of the tree, narrowly missing a panicked Cerberus. The monstrous hound continued to thrash, unwittingly spreading flames. Each tormented yelp battered Buck's ears mercilessly. He hopped over a burning patch of grass and sprinted to a safe distance away.

A drawn-out scream joined Cerberus's wails. Buck looked back to see Claire had not followed him. Her face was filled with terror as she teetered on her branch, on the brink of life and death. The flames leapt toward her as if they had been given a mind of their own.

Buck screamed for her to jump. Claire looked up at him, her face shining with tears and sweat. Her joints had locked with fear, rooting her to the spot. She tried to summon thoughts of her family to move her, but she couldn't recall their faces. There was only the fire. The fire would consume her.

"Claire! CLAIRE!" Buck screamed over and over. He dodged around Cerberus, jumping over patches of bright orange fire.

Crying, Cerberus scrambled to its feet and shot off like a rocket, going to seek out water in the minutes it had left. But the fire continued to catch all around them, igniting trees and burning all food to a crisp.

It was too hot. Claire could feel it sear across her dark skin, as it was nearly upon her. The branch under her was giving way. She grappled for a better hold, but her weight was too much for the burning wood.

_Snap! _

With a short scream, she plummeted. She braced to feel the impact of the earth or the unbearable heat of the flames. Instead, she crashed down on something softer. It was Buck.

"I got you…" He panted, lying in a heap under her. He pushed Claire off of him, and then dragged her forcefully to her feet.

"Thought…you said…every man for himself…" Claire rasped, her lungs thick with smoke.

"The hell with what I said. Now let's get the hell out of here!"

"But…there's nowhere to go." Claire whispered, gripping Buck's hand tightly in her own. They were surrounded by fire. Trying not to panic, she looked for an escape route. "…There!"

A nearby boulder could give them a boost and help them over the flames. Buck charged towards it and Claire struggled to keep up. Her legs still felt like jelly. Her strength was nearly diminished. Luckily, Buck was not letting go of her hand and kept her upright. Together, they leaped over the wall of fire.

But all of Gluttony was catching by now. The air was thick with dark gray smoke. It hung low over the burning trees and bushes. All of the food was burning. And every living creature on this island was burning with it.

_But not us, _Claire told herself. Each impact her foot made on the ground reminded her she was still alive. Each cough that racked her lungs made her realize that she had to keep fighting. Her family was waiting for her.

Suddenly, something locked around her foot. Sharp needles pierced the skin on her ankle, digging all the way to her bone. Claire screamed in agony.

Buck looked back. What he saw was hell on earth. Cerberus was still alive. One head was gone, a burnt mound of flesh dragging limply on the ground. The last remaining head, the center head, had locked its jaws on Claire's foot. Its body was an inferno but that didn't even seem to faze the hound. Its eyes blazed with hatred.

Time seemed to slow. Buck's hand tightened on Claire's instinctively, as if he could pull her to safety. She could feel tears running down her face. Buck's eyes were fierce with determination. _Don't you let go, _they said.

_It's okay, _Claire realized, suddenly at peace with the world. Her mouth formed words she had spoken many times in her life:

_Always put others before yourself._

"NO!" Buck screamed as Claire's hand separated from his own. Cerberus dragged her back, jaws clamped firmly around her leg. Claire didn't even scream, but her eyes were wild with fear. Buck leaped after her, trying to catch her hand again, but then the flames rose up around him. It cut him off from Cerberus and Claire, blocking them from view.

"Claire!" He shouted, "_Claire!_"

But there was no response. Not even a growl from Cerberus. Only the sound of flames licking away at the landscape. The fire had swallowed both of them.

Buck turned and ran away blindly. Grief crushed him from the inside. He barely noticed when water rose up around him, cool and welcoming. He fell into its embrace, too upset to feel relieved.

He had reached the ocean safely.

* * *

Only the sound of a cannon could awaken Thimble from her mindless slumber. It wasn't even sleeping, really. She just sat and stared, waiting for the Gamemakers to kill her already. She wished they would get it over with. Even with four tributes left, she was certain she couldn't win.

With a sigh, she crawled out of her hiding spot within the mangrove roots. Harsh sunlight caused blotches to appear on her vision and she took a moment to blink them away. Then she saw it: Gluttony, burning on the horizon. The whole island was up in flames.

A cool drop fell on her nose. Her surroundings became dark. She looked up to see clouds moving in, covering the sun. The Gamemakers had sent a rainstorm to put out the fire.

_Why bother? The food is probably all gone. _Thimble thought, bitter with defeat. Her stomach growled at the thought of food. But she didn't have the strength to go looking for something she couldn't find. And clearly, no one thought she was worth sponsoring. They were right.

She crawled back under the mangrove trees to wait out the rain.

* * *

Buck had somehow made it to Pride. He lay curled on the rocks, allowing the rain to pour down on him. The sound of the cannon had brought him all kinds of grief. He mourned his district partner, blaming himself for her death. He never should have lit that match. He never could have imagined the forest would have caught like that.

He lifted his head, rainwater streaming down his face. Gluttony was smoldering. It was just a heap of ash and skeletal trees now. There was no use going back to it. Claire was most certainly dead.

But he found himself rising to his feet anyways. He began to step down the rocks. Just as he reached the water, there was a metallic clink. He looked down to see his foot had landed on something shiny. He bent down and picked it up.

It was a gold pendant. It contained the image of a tree, surrounded by flowers. It heavily resembled the tree on this island, almost as if created in homage to the arena. Buck felt a flash of rage and brought his arm back to chuck it into the ocean.

_District 6. _The memory suddenly appeared in his mind. This necklace belonged to the little girl that died on the first day. He remembered her talking about it in her interview…but he couldn't even remember her name.

Disgusted with himself, Buck lowered his arm, looking at the pendant in a new light. It felt like the Bloodbath had been months ago. He never really stopped to mourn the tributes that had breathed their last during it. He wasn't a good person like Claire was. He didn't think of other people too often.

_Dammit. _His throat closed with sorrow. _If only you had taken yer own advice, Buck. If only you had stuck to 'every man for himself.'_

With a frustrated sigh, he put the necklace on. Leaving it where he found it didn't feel right. Taking it with him showed the Capitol he had some trace of humanity left in him.

Buck took a deep breath and threw himself into the ocean. He swam easily through the rough waves, making his way back to Gluttony. Determination overrode his fatigue. He needed to know Claire was dead. He needed to see the destruction with his own eyes.

As he stepped onto shore, he knew with certainty she was dead. Nothing had escaped the inferno, except perhaps the lake. But its crystal surface had become dirtied by ash. Everything else was unrecognizable. The island looked a great deal smaller without its thick undergrowth and tall trees. He knew he was putting himself out in the open like this. Strangely, he didn't care.

Ash had mixed with rain to form a putrid gray sludge that stained Buck's feet. He steadily made his way through it, taking in the destruction one bit at a time. He traced his steps back to the place he thought he had lost Claire.

There, he found the smoldering skeleton of Cerberus. The smell of burnt flesh was awful and Buck had to clamp a hand over his nose. His eyes began to water. Claire was in here somewhere, probably torn to pieces. But he didn't want to look any further.

A parachute came drifting down at that moment. It serenely floated down from the sky and settled a few yards away. Buck glared at it, paranoid. It looked out of place among the ruined landscape. But the Gamemakers would not trick him like this. No, they were rewarding him for surviving the ordeal. So he walked over to open it.

Inside the parachute was armor. Light, streamlined armor that would be easy to wear in the water. Buck couldn't imagine how expensive it must have been at this point in the Games. He took it out and tried it on. A perfect fit.

"Well, would you look at that, Shortie?" Buck murmured, regret pooling in his eyes. "I guess I'm going to win that bet of ours…wish you were here to see it."

His tears mixed with the rainwater that streamed down his face. He tried to pretend they weren't there. The Capitol would not see him cry. He turned back to the heap of bones that was Cerberus, hatred filling up every single pore in his body.

It was time to go.

* * *

Another storm was moving in the distance. Thunder rumbled ominously and dark clouds billowed on the horizon. Thimble didn't move. Heavy rains would probably cause Sloth to flood. She would drown or be eaten by that monster swarm of eels. There were so many of them. They were practically overflowing the rivulets of seawater that ran through the swamp. Within the past week, they had reproduced uncontrollably and formed an army.

Lightning flashed a long ways off and Thimble felt a spark of fear. Despite her tough act, she was still afraid and unwilling to die. She left her cover and ran to where she had left the canoe. The streams were empty. The eels were taking cover in the depths of the ocean. It was going to be a bad one.

Thimble approached the canoe, thinking twice about her decision. The Gamemakers were trying to get them to flee to higher ground. It seemed the prime time to end the Games.

_I don't want to play by their rules. _Thimble thought, hands resting on the canoe, _But where can I go? Wiley's on Envy. Lust sunk, Gluttony burned, and Wrath exploded. Everyone will be going to Pride. _She stared hard at the tallest island, straining to spot a tribute in the dark. But the only movement belonged to the giant tree's branches, thrashing in the wind.

_I'm not going. _She decided stubbornly. She turned away. Just as she did so, she heard a faint voice call out to her. A familiar voice that dug up all sorts of emotions within her. It drifted across the water, beckoning her to follow. She whipped around, unable to ignore it. She spotted something skimming along the waves. Then the voice sounded again.

Thimble leaped into the canoe and grabbed the paddle. Her weak muscles could barely push it along. But she had to find the source of that voice. It reached her ears in distorted bits, drowned out by the distant thunder.

Thimble steered the canoe in its direction. The waves swept the boat towards Pride, as if guiding her there themselves. The voice became clearer upon her approach.

She was certain of it now. It was Al's voice. Hope dared to rise in her chest. She hadn't watched the hovercraft take the body. She hadn't even looked at the sky at night. He could be alive—Wiley just had all of that blood on his hands because he wounded him. Or maybe it was his own blood.

Thimble charged up the hill, Al's voice growing louder and louder. _He could still be alive. He could still be alive. He could still…be alive…_

She slowed to a stop, looking at the gravestone that rose up before her. _Almond Frezno Jr._ it read. He always had such a laughable name. On top of the grave, a dark-feathered bird settled, tucking its wings into its side.

It opened its beak and said in a perfect imitation of Al's voice, "I know I can't win the Hunger Games. I'm not the kind of victor the Capitol wants."

Fresh tears rolled down Thimble's cheeks. "Stop it." She choked out.

"Thanks, Thimble. I wish I had you for a sister! You're one cool—"

"STOP IT!" Thimble shrieked, swinging her hatchet down at the Jabberjay. _Stop taunting me! _

The Jabberjay flew away just in time and her blade struck the grave uselessly. It bounced out of her hand and landed in the grass. Her scream sent about a dozen birds flying into the air, squawking. Others took up the alarm call, and pretty soon all of them were in the air, swarming around her.

Fear gripped Thimble in its claws. An image of one of the 42nd tributes flashed through her mind—pecked to death by seagulls. But the Jabberjays flocked together and flew away, over the ocean. Thimble watched them until they had disappeared. Now, the graveyard was empty and silent. She felt more alone than ever.

Thimble tipped her head back, looking at the sky. The full moon was starting to break through the clouds. It was unnaturally bright, giving the tributes plenty of light to see by. All of Panem would be able to see the pain on her face.

"Is it funny?" She whispered, wondering if anyone could hear her, "Does this make you laugh?"

The only response was the wind whistling through the giant tree. Thimble sighed tearfully and made her way towards it after picking up her hatchet. Al was truly dead. She was tired of mourning. So tired she could just fall asleep right here. At least the storm seemed like it was passing. Maybe the Gamemakers weren't ready to end the Games after all.

_What's it going to take, huh? _Thimble scoffed, making herself comfortable at the base of the tree. She leaned against the trunk and looked up. Instantly, her eyes locked with another tribute's. She froze.

The tribute offered her a dimpled smile. "Howdy."

Thimble scrambled to her feet, tightening her grip on the hatchet.

"Calm down. There's no need fer that!" Buck sighed deeply, losing the fake smile. He looked away, completely relaxed on his leafy perch.

But Thimble remained wary. "Aren't you going to kill me?" She asked, narrowing her eyes. Her voice was cracking. She sounded pathetic, but she was ready to show this tribute what she was made of. Energy pulsed through her veins.

Buck looked back to Thimble. "Nah. I ain't gonna kill a kid." He decided in a tired voice.

At that moment, Thimble could see her own hollowness reflected in his eyes. They had both suffered great losses. They were both dead inside. She smothered the sympathy she felt and challenged, "And what if it comes down to the two of us? There are four left, after all."

"Then you better start runnin'." Buck said, his gaze darkening.

Thimble prepared to do just that. But Buck quickly returned to his apathetic state, gazing through the branches of the tree. He wasn't going to attack Thimble. He didn't want to. And she was still useful to him yet.

"So…what've you been up to this whole time?" He questioned innocently.

"What's it to _you_?" Thimble replied, her voice tinged with ice. She remained under the tree, glaring up at him. She had a feeling she knew what Buck was up to. He was trying to squeeze information out of her. As soon as she lost her usefulness, she would be discarded.

Buck's intentions weren't as bad as she thought. He rolled his eyes. "I just wanna know who's left."

"Then you should have kept track yourself!" Thimble shot back.

"Cool it, girl. I never did nothin' to offend you."

Thimble didn't respond, steaming silently.

Buck could see he was aggravating her, but that didn't stop him. "Thought I saw you had a little alliance thing goin' on with the mad scientist."

Thimble's eyes went wide. She looked up at him, confused. "Huh?"

"Wiley Coyote. He's still kickin', ain't he?"

The little girl's face twisted into one of pure hatred. Her lips drew back to reveal yellowed teeth. "Regretfully." She hissed.

_I smell betrayal. _Buck thought humorlessly, _Poor kid._

He decided to stop bugging her about it. Silence passed between the two. But there was something else there, as well. A quiet bond. Even without speaking, they acknowledged what each other went through. They were both kids, suffering through this together.

Thimble finally allowed herself to relax. She sat down and watched the storm with Buck, waiting with him for something to happen.

* * *

It had been a lazy day for Zale. But it had been worth it; he was most likely the healthiest tribute in the arena at this point. He had been ready to take on Sagitta in a second round. This time, he would be bringing the fight to her.

But it was never meant to be. Zale was astounded to see her face appear first in the sky that night. She had the same uppity expression as always. Her picture was followed by Claire from District 10.

Zale felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. "Well, this should be easy." He muttered to himself, racking his brain to figure out who was left. He had a good memory for the faces and names of the remaining tributes.

Wiley from District 3 and Thimble from District 8. How the heck were they even still alive? Buck from District 10, he could understand. He was a rough and tumble cowboy. The other two, however…at least they wouldn't give him any trouble. Maybe.

Zale paced along the shore, allowing the wind to batter at his hair. He wondered where he should head next. Should he wait out the storm? He was so sick of sitting around…the Capitol wouldn't be happy with him for it…

Then something caught his eye. A dark shape on shore of Pride that definitely wasn't a rock. It had to be a canoe. Zale felt excitement rise up in his chest. He bounded to the edge of the water, bursting with energy.

Was that a tribute on the island? Yes, it was! It looked like the little one from District 8 was standing at the top, by the tree. The last girl in the arena. This would be too easy.

_You're dead, Coral, _Zale thought, taking a deep breath, _I said I'd win for you. But I have to win it for myself, now. My life is at stake. I want to live!_

Without wasting another second, Zale plunged into the ocean and began swimming strongly towards Pride.

He had never sensed the presence of another tribute on the island.

Wiley was watching him, hidden in the dune grass. He had fearlessly swum here all by himself. He wasn't afraid anymore. This was all in his head—he could do anything he put his mind to, kind of like a dream. He didn't feel pain or anything else, either. That's how he knew this wasn't real. But he still wanted to leave, to get back to the real world.

He recalled some of his dad's testers entering these virtual worlds and never being able to come back. With his brilliant mind, he had figured it out for himself. He had to win the Hunger Games. Only then would he be able to leave this madness behind.

But time was against him. He could feel the chip in his brain, weighing heavier and heavier with each passing hour. Nosebleeds afflicted him more than ever. Sometimes, he had trouble seeing or walking. It could only mean death was approaching. He would die on the lab table, just like the rest of those poor souls.

_But not me! Not Wiley! I'm a genius! _He thought reassuringly, his lips twitching back into a grimace. _I'll show them all!_

* * *

Buck's keen eyes spotted a dark shape haul itself out of the water and onto Pride's rocky shores. That lean, well-muscled frame could only belong to Zale. He had finally come to join the party.

A small gasp from Thimble told him she had spotted him as well. "Stay right there." Buck whispered, shifting in the branches of the tree.

Thimble glared up at him. "You're using me as bait?!"

"Sure am," Buck answered, "But don't you worry—I'll kill him before he can lay a finger on you."

Thimble squinted her eyes, trying to get a good look at Buck. But he was climbing higher and higher, becoming immersed in the leaves. "Do you even have a weapon?" She scoffed. Buck didn't answer, having gone out of sight. She began to move off.

"Y'know, he'll just hunt you down anyways. There's nowhere to run." Buck's quiet statement stopped Thimble in her tracks.

She shivered and looked to where Zale was. He had disappeared. That meant he was charging up the hill, coming for her. Thinking fast, Thimble told Buck, "I'll stay put and not give you away, but you have to do something for me!"

"Yeah?"

"Form an alliance with me after you kill Zale. Then we can hunt down Wiley together."

"It's a deal," Buck said, without really giving it a second thought. It was a little late in the game for alliances. The Gamemakers would probably send something to break them apart, anyways. But right now, Buck just wanted Thimble to stay where she was. So he agreed.

Thimble took a deep breath and forced herself to keep calm. She pressed her back against the thick trunk of the tree, taking comfort in its sturdiness. Her grip tightened on the hatchet in her hands. But Zale was taking his time. He must have been walking up the hill instead of running. Somehow, that made her more nervous. It was as if he knew she couldn't get away.

_But I'm not going down without a fight! _She swore.

Just then, Zale came into view. Two sharp knives glinted in the moonlight and Thimble forced herself not to look at them. She swallowed and stared hard at Zale. He stared back without flinching, coming closer and closer.

He stopped a few yards away, sizing her up. His face was expressionless. "Anything you want to say?" He asked in a voice that was too polite for its own good.

Thimble remained mute and shook her head.

Zale sighed. He wouldn't be putting on a show this time. "I promise I'll make it quick," He decided, taking another step forward.

Thimble braced herself.

Zale raised a knife.

At the last moment, she realized Buck had lied. Nothing would stop him from letting Zale kill her, and _then _going to attack him. She was dead. Her heart fluttered in her chest, desperate to escape. Every part of her was screaming silently: _I don't want to die! _

But just as Zale was nearly upon her, the branch above rustled. Silent as the wind, Buck came crashing down between them, throwing himself forward onto Zale. Buck's armor flashed in the moonlight—and something else. He was holding a long, sharp bone. A relic of Cerberus.

Zale gave a strangled cry at Buck's surprise attack, unable to stay on his feet. The two boys fell to the ground, tumbling over one another on the sloping hill, weapons flailing. A wayward gravestone blocked them from rolling all the way to the bottom. Buck grunted as the top of his skull scraped it.

Zale aimlessly slashed one of his knives, trying to drive it into Buck's stomach. But it scraped the chainmail harmlessly. Realization dawned on Zale. He scrambled to his feet, gathering all of his senses for the ensuing fight. Buck hopped up, lips drawn back in a snarl, wielding his weapon like a primitive warrior.

Thimble found herself frozen at the base of the tree, unable to tear her gaze away from the fight. Zale was clearly more skilled, but Buck's armor protected him. He couldn't get a clear shot. It was an equal match. The hatchet weighed heavy in Thimble's hand while she stood on the sidelines, forgotten. One boy would kill the other. And she would kill the victor. She prepared herself to run in at any moment and finish them.

With a roar, Buck pierced Zale's shoulder with the sharpened bone. He barely made a sound as he pulled away, leaving a gaping hole in his skin. But Buck was relentless, taking the opportunity to smash his weapon into Zale's left hand. The blow caused him to lose his grip on a knife. Before it even hit the ground, Buck kicked it away.

This minor distraction passed the upper hand to Zale. He drove his body into Buck's, knocking him away from the gravestones and onto the flatter ground by Pride's tree. He noticed Thimble cringing in the corner of his eye. He was very aware of the hatchet she held, but he was ready to dodge if she decided to toss it.

Buck swung his makeshift blade and missed. Zale dodged around it and delivered a punch to his stomach. In the instant that Buck struggled for air, Zale grabbed a fistful of Buck's hair and attempted to slit his exposed throat. Buck wriggled out of his grip like a snake, kicking Zale in the groin as he did so. But not before Zale cut open a large gash on his forehead.

Zale bit back a cry of pain. "So you like to fight _dirty_." He spat through gritted teeth, taking a wild stab on the last word.

Buck blocked with his bone and a harsh scraping filled the air. With a burst of energy, Buck swung his weapon at the side of Zale's head. It collided with his left temple painfully. For a brief moment, his vision darkened. He relied on his ears to help him dodge another wild swing from the District 10 tribute.

"There ain't no such thing as a clean fight, Captain Covent." Buck retaliated, taking a few steps back to regain his breath. "But I guess a man such as yerself wouldn't know that." Blood poured from his forehead cut, blinding him. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on his opponent.

Zale didn't follow him, taking a step back as well. This scene looked familiar. He had taken another tribute by surprise, by throwing one of his knives. He decided to try it again. His arm drew back in one swift motion, aiming for Buck's throat. His armor was about to fail him.

A warning died in Thimble's throat. She shoved aside her emotions and prepared to make her kill.

But before Zale or Buck could make their move, a jovial voice filled the air around them, sounding over the approaching storm.

"Hello!"

Thimble's breath caught in her throat. Buck and Zale froze in their tracks.

There stood Wiley, between the three of them and the graveyard. His hands were tucked behind his back, a huge grin twitching on his face. He looked from one tribute to the next, as if waiting for one of them to return his greeting.

If he hadn't been the last tribute remaining in the arena, Thimble wouldn't have known it was him. He looked nothing like the bumbling coward that had entered the Hunger Games. His glasses were gone. A swim in the ocean had plastered his long bangs to his head. Dark red blood streamed from his nose and from gouges he had carved with his own fingernails. An arrow was sticking out of his upper arm, but he barely seemed to notice.

Wiley looked right at Thimble, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. There was no trace of sanity left within those blue depths.

Smiling, Wiley brought his hands out from behind his back. In each one, he clutched a stick of dynamite; unstable dynamite that could blow at any moment. Wiley's grin stretched just a little wider.

"This is the part where I kill you."


End file.
